Harry Potter: Lost Very Far Away
by greenchild24
Summary: Harry Potter is distraught at the loss of his Godfather and with a little understanding from a blonde friend of his runs though the Veil after him. In Doing so he becomes so lost...but will he find his way home again? What will he discover while gone? If he does return home will he ever be the same? HP/LL ALL CHAPTERS NOW BETA'D... with CH 1-6 reedited for easier reading.
1. Chapter 1

Harry Potter: Lost Very Far Away

Chapter 1: Harry Is Lost

 _Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, though I wish I did. I also and do not own the all mighty evil Empire of Disney and therefore do not own Star Wars, though again, I wish I did._

 _Though this disclaimer will only appear once it covers the entire work and I'm in no way claim the rights to Harry Potter or Star Wars only my original ideas._

 _A/N: This work is being transcribed by microphone (though handwritten) and un beta'd so any mistakes are mine and I hope you'll bear with me. The Harry Potter time frame has moved up a bit to make it easier for me. Please make any criticism constructive as I will ignore all criticism that is not as, at the end of the day, I don't get paid and I don't work for you._

18th of June 2000 

Galactic Date Unknown -796 BBY(Before Battle of Yavin)

2,857 ATC(After Treaty of Coruscant)

32,491 After Tho Yor Arrival

Department of Mysteries/Dantooine

"...That's something to discuss when young Harry is safe at Hogwarts Minister.." Dumbledore began.

"Harry?" questioned Cornelius Fudge the Minister of Magic " Harry Potter you mean?" At Dumbledore's nod, he continued" I'm afraid to say he ran off" He vaguely pointed "in that direction".

As Dumbledore began to move to find his wayward student the Minister continued "Come now Dumbledore he will be fine in the ministry for the moment. "After all, there are Aurors everywhere and he is Harry Potter it's not as if he's going to get lost or injured with all of these people floating around, besides we really do need to talk about what to do next…"

Dumbledore sighed as he saw the Minister's point of view because as much as he wanted to find Harry the truth remained that Voldemort was back and, more importantly, had been seen. Meetings in Fudge's office and strategy meetings to combat this threat would become the norm. He assumed that Harry would be fine for an hour or so.

Little did he know that the half-hour meeting would balloon into three and that by the time he was done Harry would be beyond his help and forever changed.

Fifteen-year-old Harry Potter was running moving to check on his friends and on his Godfather Sirius Black.

Sirius was dead, he thought.

Sirius couldn't be dead his mind screamed back.

Harry didn't stop running.

He couldn't be dead. Harry would not allow it.

All he remembered was Sirius falling through the veil after being hit by a red light. To Harry that did not mean he was dead, no body, no blood, though sadly no Sirius.

His fists clenched and in one hand was his wand while in the other was Bellatrix's taken from the ground when she disappeared with her horrible master. Harry idly wondered whether she would like her wand now that he had snapped it in two.

Passing an Auror in his run towards the veil room, he paused and couldn't help but wonder if all the Death Eaters would like the gift of broken wands. As he had that thought he stopped and studied what the Auror was doing.

As far as he could tell, all the man was doing was looking bored.

"Excuse me but what are you doing?" He asked

"Ah...Mr Potter" the distracted Auror remarked, obviously flustered to be meeting the Wizarding World's celebrity "How can I help you today?"

"What are you doing?" he repeated

"I'm supposed to be looking for more evidence but, instead I'm guarding a bag and waiting for my supervisor in the next room to take it from me". He grimaced. "Such is the glamorous life of an Auror"

"What is he doing? Your supervisor that is" he asked mildly curious.

"He's dealing with the scum and the ki... I mean your friends, Mr Potter…"

"It's Harry please" he paused and then added, "You know I could take that back to your supervisor".

When he seemed about to refuse, Harry continued "After all, I do have to give in this one anyway…" He mutely held out Bellatrix's wand and the Aurors eyes couldn't help but widen, especially at seeing the vile thing in pieces.

"Well, I suppose...as it's you.." he handed a bag of wands over to Harry with the word evidence stamped all over it, he also ignored the sound of snapping. "Just go through the door behind me and ask for Senior Auror Marcus then…"

Harry smiled and stepped on through the door to look for his friends while inside his mind his thoughts were still stuck on the same loop.

Sirius is dead.

But he can't be dead.

As he placed Bellatrix's wand pieces inside the bag with the others, his eyes were already scanning the room for his friends. Harry's eyes slid over a man that was obviously Marcus due to the way he was ordering everyone around and desperately hoped his friends were okay.

He saw Hermione, from a distance, in the far right corner of the room unconscious. There was a team of anxious Medi-Witches pouring over her body (but not in a frantic fashion) so Harry got the impression that she would be ok. He released a breath that he hadn't been aware, until that moment, that he had been holding.

She was going to live. He smiled, a bit of the weight that had settled on his soul over the course of the day slipped away and he felt lighter.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his friend Neville Longbottom waving him over. He was sitting on a bench next to his other friend Luna Lovegood.

Luna appeared to Harry to be her usual spacy self as she was humming a little bit, off to the side, while holding a satchel. Harry found this odd, but only because he didn't remember her having it before and it seemed unlikely that he would have missed it.

He moved to them with a smile on his face but before he could speak Luna beat him to it.

"A Notice-Me-Not charm Harry".

"Huh?" was his eloquent response.

"You were going to ask where I got this satchel from, which of course is the wrong question. The question you should be asking is why didn't you notice your satchel before now" she explained with wide innocent blue eyes.

"My satchel?" he asked getting the distinct impression that a headache was beginning to form behind his eyes. He wasn't worried, however, after all, he'd spoken to Luna before.

"But of course!" She explained as if carrying a hidden satchel and telling no one about it while in the middle of a battle was the most obvious thing in the world, especially as it was for someone else. "I'm not going to need it am I?"

Harry looked helplessly at Neville even as she passed him the satchel and he wordlessly slipped the bag of wand's inside while placing it on his shoulder.

For a moment Neville and Harry stared at each other and thought about all the responses that they could give and then they shrugged, as one, giving up on understanding her realising that it was probably a futile effort.

Luna of course just returned to humming tunelessly.

"So... The Weasleys?" he questioned not noticing them in the room.

"Ron's at St Mungo's and Ginny has gone with the rest of the family to be with him" responded Neville.

"Is he going to be ok?" Harry asked worriedly.

"They think so" even as he paused and seemed to be weighing his words "But you have to understand Harry, it's not like my nose, an easy fix that can be done in a second. It will take some time... maybe as long as a month or three"

"I'm glad your nose is fixed mate" Harry paused "what about your wand? Can they fix it at all?"

"I am afraid not" he smiled wistfully " It was my father's you know? It never really worked well for me but still…" Neville's eyes, which had drifted away, refocused on Harry's face. "Nevermind, I suppose. It's just another brick in the wall of the Longbottom-Potter Alliance". At Harry's blank look he paused "You don't know? Here…" He tucked his wand shards in the satchel "Keep that for now and come find me later and I'll fill you in". Harry nodded, it was the least he could do, for his friend losing something of his own lost father's.

"I'll come to find you later then" affirmed Harry

"Do you hear the voices behind the Veil?" Luna softly interrupted

With that, the question that had briefly been subsumed by worry for his friends returned with a vengeance.

Sirius was dead.

He couldn't be dead.

"Don't worry" Luna said softly. "I hear them too. They speak of Horrors and wonders, of brilliance and shadow, of love and life. Such pain in the voices and such joy…" Her eyes locked on his, staring not at his face, rather they seemed to look deeply into his soul. "Why don't they ever stop speaking?" The last sentence was said almost in a whisper.

"I don't know" he whispered back "I can't hear them from this far away". He paused for a moment and in a new voice raw with emotion simply asked " Is he alive?"

"I don't know" she said slowly. "He's not speaking to me at all… at least not that I can hear" and at that, he hung his head.

Neville, looking uncomfortable, backed away a few paces to give Harry some space as he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Dust" Luna nodded even though she knew it wasn't.

"Can I ask you three questions Harry Potter?" she said abruptly changing the subject.

"Only three Luna not twelve?" A joke, but of course Luna answered the question seriously

"I only need three. I could make some up if you like?" At his wide-eyed silence, she continued "Fair warning Harry Potter you must really think about your answers, not just say the first thing that pops into your head or what you think I want to hear".

Harry took a moment to think.

Luna was many things but one thing she was always was honest. If she gave a warning it would be because she was going to be getting personal and he wasn't sure if he was ok with that, but then again who was? If he couldn't be open with her now after the battle they just had could he be with anyone ever?

"Sure Luna...You can ask" She had stood with him this far and had never doubted him, just accepted him, for who he was.

He owed her for that.

"Do you think Sirius Black is alive?" He was about to bite off a sarcastic comment when he looked into her eyes, so forgiving, so understanding and so... blue. He sighed.

"I don't know Luna... I just don't know. I know he went through the Veil but I don't know what that means, only what people say it means. I also know that he was hit by a red spell, but I don't know if it was a stunning spell or a cutting spell or what…. I'm only a fifth year for fuck's sake and despite my D.A.D.A. scores I know I'm no Hermione". Luna seemed completely unfazed by his bad language, seemingly happy with his thoughts coming out unfiltered and raw. "I guess the answer is I just don't know"

It was freeing in a way, Harry mused, to share the burden of not knowing with someone else without being told to curb his language or being looked at with pity.

Bless Luna, he thought.

"My second question" she began " is... do you like me, Harry Potter... In that way?" Harry laughed, though not unkindly and Luna to her credit didn't even flinch.

"You know, this has to be the weirdest conversation I've had in my entire life Luna and, for the record, that does include the one about raising a dragon in a wooden house".

He paused to gather his thoughts while Luna waited. "If you'd asked me yesterday I wouldn't know what I would have said but here, now, with everything that we've been through and everything that has happened today... yes Luna I think I do.."

"Goodie!" she said and leaned forward, starting to kiss him. He felt in that moment more carefree, warmer and frankly more aroused than he had ever been before. He also felt a tiny bit scared, in short for the first time in his life, he felt normal for a moment.

Eventually, they pulled apart blushing lightly.

Neville, nearly forgotten, stood staring at the ceiling pretending not to have seen anything, though he too was blushing.

"My final question" Harry with great difficulty refocused "is can you live without knowing what happened to Sirius?"

At that moment, looking at her, It all crystallised for him. Could you deal with not knowing? The question echoed in his head and the ghost of another life, of him leaving arm in arm with her, flashed before his eyes.

"No" he said and at length. Luna smiled sadly, even as he continued, "Wait for me?"

"Of course" was the simple reply.

"I'm coming Sirius" he whispered and before anyone could stop him he ran into the Veil. An Artefact that was little understood by the greatest of Wizarding Minds but was always called the Veil of Death.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: One for All And All for Nothing

 _A/N: There's a bit of an information dump this chapter, sorry about that, but the quicker it's done the quicker I can get on with the story. I will say that I generally dislike information dumps (even as I understand their necessity) and am therefore resigned to always being slightly unhappy with this chapter. As someone pointed out a legitimate error in transcription in thought I would post this as I had it..._

796 BBY 

2,857 ATC

Harry awoke, not to soft voices of loved ones or even the tender care of Madam Pomfrey, but to mind-numbing agony.

He had a migraine that was so bad, he actually wanted to die, if only to end whatever was happening inside his head. He probably would have welcomed it except he had to find Sirius.

After all, the search for is Godfather was the entire point of this ridiculous utterly reckless and dangerous trip.

Through the tiny needles that constantly assaulted his senses, he saw a shape in front of him that slowly resolved into a body. His scar started to bleed. His eyes felt like they were on fire and his ears would not stop ringing almost as if there was a great bell swinging violently in his head.

Still, he managed to crawl towards the body. He hoped against hope that it wasn't Sirius or if it was that he would be ok.

"Sirius?" There was no response "Please talk to me" he started to panic "please!"

Sadly the body in front of him was that of Sirius Black.

If you just looked at his face you may have been fooled into thinking that he was just sleeping and, after the year that he had been forced to endure in Grimmauld Place, he deserved his rest. You could have even argued that there was a look of peace on his too pale face.

From the neck below, however, it was a different story.

Thankfully whatever spell had been used on him wasn't part of the explosive family or there wouldn't be much of a body left.

Sadly it wasn't a stunner either, but rather, one of the many cutting spells you can learn while at Hogwarts. It seemed that Sirius was hit just under the chin, fell through the Veil, and died quickly on the other side. There was also a distinct lack of blood... not that Harry noticed it at the time.

Harry shook silently and began to weep while holding his Godfather's head in his arms. Harry felt the last bits of hope fade as well as his hope for a normal life and his fragile, barely kept, calm.

He never felt more stupid and pain filled than he did at that moment.

He had come to save Sirius and he had failed to save him, he wasn't sure of a way home and even the trap at the Department of Mysteries was his fault to a degree. He caused _this_.

He was one of the reasons why Sirius was dead.

His headache had become terrifying in its ferocity and now both his eyes and nose were bleeding, his ears were drowned in the agony of the smallest of sounds and in a way he welcomed it.

To his mind right then, he had failed so many, he had failed to get the Dursley's affection as a child, he had failed Cedric at the graveyard and now he'd failed his Godfather.

He deserved this or so he thought.

If this was death, however, he thought, someone had lied when they were discussing a white light.

What he had was a blinding pain that was robbing him of everything that he was, ever could be or ever wanted to be. It was not nice but Harry hoped it would be quick and accepted it as something that he couldn't stop.

As darkness tugged at the edge of his vision he heard one last thing before losing consciousness...

"New Builder detected. Starting emergency medical procedures…".

After that, there was only oblivion.

-LAFA-

"Greetings Builder" The same metallic and dispassionate voice from before spoke "I am afraid to say that I have had to implant Basic into your mind and fix the simple error in your eyes".

Well, Harry thought while rubbing his face, that told me absolutely nothing about who or what I am talking to but at least he didn't need his glasses anymore. When looking for mercies even small ones would do.

Surveying the room he was in, he found that he was in some sort of bed with the satchel Luna gave him hanging from the bottom left-hand post.

Looking around some more, Harry saw only dark patterned stone walls and what appeared to be some sort of futuristic computer at the end.

None of this was in the slightest bit concerning to him at the moment considering the massive _robot_ standing in front of him at that moment. At least it looked human, albeit one that was made entirely of metal.

"What kind of robot are you?" He asked incredulously

"I am a Rakatan medical and science _droid,_ I exist only to serve the Builders and the Infinite Empire. You are a Builder and so I serve you". The Droid moved forward "Hold still please".

A dart like object sprang from the open palm of the Droid and just as quickly retracted. Harry grunted as it pierced his skin. "DNA sample accepted. No Force aptitude found" it recited in a monotone.

"Why do you think I'm a Builder?" questioned a very confused Harry Potter

"Only builders have access to this hidden chamber and the experimental Rakatan Gate Master. Logic dictates that you must, therefore, be a Builder" was the dispassionate reply.

At the word Gate, Harry couldn't help but look towards where he came from. However, instead of seeing an archway fluttering in the nonexistent breeze, he saw only an archway which looked like it had been carved into the strange black stone.

"Perhaps the Dark Side Leech in your skull has affected your memory? I'm afraid that all evidence suggests it imploded due to the distance from its main source. The damage was quite intensive, in fact, it almost killed you. I am happy to say however that my devices report that none of its influence remains and your brain waves are truly and completely your own once more".

"I had a Dark Side Leech?" Harry didn't know what to think, as he was finding that quite hard to do at the moment.

"Indeed Master, who knows what damage it has done to your psyche. I suggest meditating to find out and to improve your muddled thought processes"

Harry took a moment to think, maybe it was a good idea, he should check out his Occlumency barriers. That thought stopped him cold.

He hadn't had any Occlumency barriers before… at all...

"That's probably not a bad idea. It might take a while" he paused "could you catalogue what's in my bag while I am busy please?"

"Of course master" Came the now expected response even as Harry moved onto the floor and sat in a lotus position.

What he found was a mixed bag, to say the least.

On the plus side, it seemed that he had an instinctive knowledge of all Occlumency and Legilimency.

It seemed that the barriers were already functional and Harry idly thought that given enough time he could master partial shielding (allowing people to sense only as much of his mind as he wanted them too much like Snape was supposed to be able to do).

The bad, apart from anything else, was that he had gained no knowledge of spell magic. He gained no new charms or curses nor did he even get something useful like Apparition. He did get other knowledge...however what he got either disgusted him or was not of immediate use.

Case in point he knew what a Dark Side Leech was now though it was known to wizards by another name.

It was called a Horcrux. He also knew how to make one and that alone would have made him throw up in his brain if he could. He knew the rituals that predated it and others like it and almost all were exceptionally repugnant. Of them all only two were not and the first either affected a continent or a whole planet, at least in theory, so it was not really useful given his current situation.

The second ritual created something that had many names and was very old.

The current official one was a simulacrum often simply called a magical construct, however, most practitioners of those arts knew it by its colloquial name... a blood bag.

The ritual that created a blood bag was not actually _evil_ but was morally grey and frankly a bit disgusting. All it required was a ritual circle a few phrases spoken out loud, a judicious application of magic and the sacrifice of his blood, urine, hair and faeces, presto you had your very own blood bag.

If you did not care about morally grey than the biggest downsides to the blood bag, and the reason it fell out of favour with Dark Lords everywhere, were two-fold.

First (and perhaps most annoyingly) they needed constant care until they were ready to be used as a backup body when yours ceased to work.

The fact that it would rapidly grow into a replica of your body was of little consolation to whomever you were making look after the thing. All it really had was a digestive tract, an arse and a mouth, all of that wrapped in a fleshy skin not only made for a poor conversationalist but meant that the Dark Lords had to put their lives in the hands of their minions.

This obviously was not acceptable to the megalomaniacal bastards.

The second problem with the blood bag was that it actually wasn't a viable means of immortality as, if they were not used, they only had a shelf life of about a month and then decayed in a putrid fashion so you couldn't just leave one lying around ready to be used or recycled at any point.

Added to that concern, and probably more important to a Dark Lord, was the simple fact that if you made a blood bag from the blood and urine and other things of you at 97 then the body the blood bag becomes when used would be 97 with all of the infirmaries of that advanced age. It meant while the blood bag was a groundbreaking ritual of its day few people performed it.

The only real reason that Harry knew about blood bags was that Riddle, the sick man that he was, had researched the older methods to see if he could improve his Resurrection before the fact as his construct (that demented grey baby) was based on a similar idea.

An academic curiosity perhaps.. but at this moment completely unhelpful, Harry mused, after all none of the rituals work after you are truly dead though the blood bag, of course, would provide an anchor.

Harry awoke from his meditation with only one clear thought in his mind but before he could articulate it the Droid interrupted.

"You have 13 broken sticks with unknown substances in the core of all the woods, 2 and a half weeks of food and two books" It happily reported.

"How do I use the gate to go home?" he asked

"There seems to be an error in your thinking. You can not go home as the gate is only one way and was an experimental design to replicate and improve upon Infinity Gates"

"Why were more never made?"

"The plague stopped all research due to the fact that, as well as causing the loss of the Force from the Builders, it caused mass panic and Builder to turn on Builder. It also made life extension impossible for them".

"When you say the Force do you mean"..Harry levitated a pebble from the corner with his wand "magic?" He paused again "and while we're at it, please stop calling me Master.."

"Understood. To answer your question it is similar in effect but, in terms of energy signature and pattern, it is much closer to a blaster bolt then the use of any Force Power that is recorded in my archives".

"Does that mean people that can use the Force will have a hard time detecting magic as opposed to the Force?"

"It is only a hypothesis but given all the data in my memory it is likely that they will be unable to detect magic through the Force unless it is used as an offensive weapon against them or unless they see either the jets of light that you might call spells or the spell's effect". The Droid stated and then continued with "No documentation exists however on how easy it is for Force users to detect each other".

"If I wanted to go home could I use an Infinity Gate?" he almost begged

"Assuming you can find one you could but that also assumes that you haven't travelled in time" it paused " I do have the hypothetical modifications in my data banks to allow an Infinity gate to be used to travel in time though whether to the future or past would have to be known beforehand"

Harry sighed. He hated time travel... yes he'd used it once and all he could really say about it was that while it was useful it was a pain in the arse with far too many rules and guidelines.

"Ok Droid. Where is the nearest Infinity Gate?" He demanded

"Unknown. The Builders were never able to capture one and had not seen one in the final 5,000 years of the Empire. At that point, it was decided that they would try and build their own and you are next to the result of that work"

"I get the feeling there are more problems to me going home" Harry stated. It seemed that at this moment the only thing he had was a list of problems.

"The biggest problem is your longevity. My scans tell me that you have a maximum lifespan of around 150 years give or take a decade". Despite Harry's disturbed look the Droid continued "Space is vast and although you could find an Infinity Gate inside that life span it is highly unlikely that you will and that you will be long dead before such a search would be complete. We also have no plans for a Ratakan Gate so I am afraid you would be unable to build one"

"So, are you telling me there's no hope?"

"Not at all!" said the Droid firmly " I have your DNA on file I can clone you as many times as needed as well as the DNA of the being that came before you if that proves necessary. Do not be concerned the Builder's will not disappear again".

"Great" said Harry unconvincingly "Wait a minute! You can clone people? Why didn't you do this when the plague broke out? Can you clone Sirius Black?"

"The plague was not purely biological, it was also technological. It was theorised at the time that a slave race made it but whatever the truth of the viruses origins it seemed designed in such a way as to make cloning impossible". the Droid seemed to collect himself " as for Sirius Black, if that is the body on the floor, I'm afraid his memory patterns are too degraded to copy. I could make a clone body but I'm afraid it would not be him instead it would be someone completely new".

When it came to the news about his Godfather Harry somewhat expected it not to be as simple as it sounded but, this was crushing. He knew now with absolute certainty that he could never see him again.

As for the Infinite Empire in truth, it didn't matter to Harry who built the plague or why there were no Builders around anymore as long as the plague wasn't still active and able to hurt him and as the Droid spoke of the plague in the past tense he doubted it. Still, it never hurt to be careful Harry thought.

"Is the plague still active?"

"As of my last update? No" the Droid replied.

"Not that I'm doubting you, but when was your last update?"

"The public console room, which this one is hidden behind and connected to, had it's computer updated and repurposed with modern galactic knowledge almost 3000 years ago by the reformed Jedi Knight Revan. Relevant information was obtained from that database".

"What other rooms are here then?"

"As previously stated we are hidden behind the main console room, to the Southeast of which is the Room of Life and the Southwest of which is the Room of Death. Those rooms were designed to stop the unworthy from gaining your secrets and as a guide to the now destroyed Star Forge for the worthy".

"Ok, here's what I'd like you to do. Please repurpose the Room of Death as a Tomb for my Godfather and bury him in it" The Droid made an affirmative noise "Then I'd like you to tell me all about the Infinite Empire, cloning, the Galaxy and anything else you think might be useful"

"As you wish, though my records indicate that other than the things you have mentioned there are only two things left in my data banks other than astronomical data...The Cadi system and The Geological Forge"

It was clear to Harry that he needed information before he went anywhere so obviously his response was

"Tell me everything that you can until I tell you to stop"

He vowed to himself at that moment that no matter the cost, no matter the sacrifice, he _would_ get home.

-LAFA-

After two weeks Harry began to feel like he was getting a handle on things.

He understood why the Droid had taken his and his Godfathers DNA if for nothing other than its own records and keeping the Builders alive but he was also getting quite restless.

Having listened to the fantastical tales of the Rakatan Empire as well as Revan's last update following the destruction of the Star Forge he was privately glad they were gone, even if he was now theoretically a Builder.

"Droid?"

"Yes, Harry?" He was grateful when, after two weeks, he'd finally gotten the Droid to use his name.

"Is the Geothermal Forge similar to the Star Forge?" He asked, pointing at the fist-sized object that lay roughly equidistant between the bed and the console.

"Yes Harry" the Droid seemed to ponder the fist-sized object while Harry seemed to be almost meditating " Though, unlike the Star Forge, it was designed to lay within a planet. Be warned, however, like the Star Forge, whatever energy it is empowered by it, in turn, begins to embody"

"This little thing?" Scepticism shone through his voice

"Given power, it will grow and given demand it will provide" came the slightly odd response.

"By any energy are you including magic?" queried Harry

"After recording your use of your power for the last two weeks? Yes, magic would be suitable" it paused "You merely attach the Engine to an acceptable computer device, choose a planned or sampled object from within the database, add energy at the appropriate time and the device will do the rest".

"When you nod I will add magic…"

With a hum, the computer started up and the Droid tapped many keys

"Synthesising Nemo's Jedi Robe and utility belt…". As the Droid nodded Harry aimed his wand at the Engine and after a moment there was a thin white-grey light that burst from the tip.

The Engine felt like a hungry beast to Harry as if it was eating at his magic, at his very life, what was worse to him however was that he could not stop the flow once it had started. Just when he thought he might pass out and he had started to panic, the flow abruptly stopped. With a white blinding flash, a set of Jedi robes appeared.

Harry fell onto his back with a groan and a whimper. " Never. Doing. That. Again". he wheezed the bloody thing was still only fist-sized. Harry glared hatefully at it for a moment.

"Impressive" he said after he got his breath back, even as he was changing into the new robes. The Droid had thoughtfully included in the plans of the belt a holster for his wand. "Do you have anything else of Nemo's?" Harry asked, a plan starting to form in his mind.

"In the computer is a DNA sample of the Jedi Knight Nemo, though it has been corrupted due to the gap between his death and the time that the sample was able to be collected".

"And it could take me years to find my way home?"

"In theory Harry, it could take you millennia, though I must warn you that cloning a Force Sensitive sentient for any purpose is dangerous due to the madness that tends to take hold of the living mind".

"What about a non-sentient?" Harry paused and then clarified "by which I mean brain dead"

"Possible yes, however, this sample is too damaged"

"What about splicing Force relevant DNA into a clone of me?"

"It can be done. You would need to hook the engine up to my consoles power supply which would lower this unit's life expectancy to less than three years as I would be unable to recharge. It will also only provide enough power for one clone and I am unsure, given the degraded sample, how much ability in the Force you would inherit. Finally, you would be unable to use the Engine during that time given its current dimensions and I would also have to remove your biological contaminants". At Harry's raised eyebrow the Droid continued " The biological contaminants are in your blood, one seemingly strives to heal you and the other seems a very virulent poison. According to my scans while you were unconscious they are currently keeping each other at bay inside your body".

"Store the DNA for both contaminants in your data banks but only remove the poison from the clone. How long would it take to produce the clone housing the equipment in the Room of Life?"

"Including the cloning cylinder and the one use essence transfer module as well as growing a clone to optimum parameters? It would take one year for a clone of your current age given the very limited power supply. Do you wish any other changes?"

"Make the clone ambidextrous, it may not be much of an advantage but, it is still _an_ advantage and I have the feeling I'll need as many as I can get". Harry nodded his head "Save the genetic template as Force Clone One please. While the cloning process is ongoing could you also save your database to a backup memory unit, in case of dire problems?"

"As you wish" The Droid moved to begin its assigned tasks.

His long-term needs now either taken care of or roughly planned out, Harry now set off out of the secret room and the ruins that contained it, to deal with his more immediate short term ones.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Unarmed Does Not Mean Easy Pickings

796 BBY

2,857 ATC

Harry walked up the small rise and towards what the Droid had referred to as a 'Jedi Enclave'. The slow walk allowed him to think and allowed him to gently relax, after all, it has been a crazy few weeks since the Department of Mysteries.

Harry was only holding himself together by taking it one simple step at a time.

He knew that would not work forever and he would have to face all the feelings behind running after Sirius and Sirius's death at some point and he knew that the little spikes of emotion that he'd been having over it were probably not healthy.

Now was not the time to fall apart and grieve properly though as frankly, he couldn't afford to at this present moment, there was still too much unknown about where he was.

As much as he wasn't lying when he said he wanted to go home he needed to sort out some things first. He not only needed money but resources and (with any luck) a place to call home at least in the short term.

He couldn't, after all, keep living only with an ancient droid for company forever. This was especially true because no matter how helpful it's archive was, by its own internal clock, it was at least 3000 years out of date. Harry didn't think that two weeks lessons in galactic history could teach him what he needed to know.

Unbeknownst to Harry, he was drawing a small amount of attention due to how he looked. Standing at 5 feet 11 inches or 1.8 metres tall (if you preferred that measurement) in dated and slightly archaic clothing the 15-year-old did not necessarily rate a second look. That was until you took into account the fact that despite his tousled black hair and emerald green eyes he seemed completely unarmed.

It wasn't that Dantooine was a particularly violent place, nor was it in the midst of a civil war however it was customary that any adults or lone travellers were armed.

After all, this wasn't the Core where pampered princes strutted about unarmed with haughty grins while the poor suffered in the dark but rather it was the Outer Rim where, due to the wildlife, even farmers carried blasters as they never knew when they might be attacked as an easy meal.

So as he walked to the main entrance and saw a series of cloth tents sprawled haphazardly around the enclave he did get some odd looks.

The market tents themselves were arranged to either side of the main entrance almost, but not quite, forming a true archway of tents with each vendor loudly proclaiming the brilliance and authenticity of their own wares to the derision of their competitors.

"Look what we have here Drell... a wannabe scavenger or treasure hunter as they like to be called? Still looting a body is looting a body no matter which way you slice it" said (what was according to the archives) a Twi'lek female.

"Leave the boy alone Nyx" responded Drell with (what even a blind man would consider) fake concern. The voice was like oil, slick and unforgiving and, at that moment, calculating. "Maybe he's a buyer...maybe he has money?" There was a gleam of unfettered greed in the Rodian's dark eyes.

"Yeah right!" she responded "And _I'm_ a senator for the Galactic Republic!" she laughed dismissively.

She looked Harry up and down almost as if the gold-skinned beauty was evaluating his worth. From her expression alone it seemed that she found him lacking in some fundamental aspect.

What a shame, he thought somewhat wistfully, after all, he may have wanted to get home but there was no harm in a little daydreaming. Apparently, she could read expressions as she gave a full bright grin and said

"Look me up when you grow up green eyes… now, are you looking to buy, explore or ask silly questions?"

"Errr.." said Harry "the last two I think? Though" he added gallantly "for a beautiful lady such as yourself I'll try to keep anything stupid to a minimum". The twenty-something Twi'lek at least grinned at his response.

"It's more than I can usually say of most men" she paused " and more than you can say of this one at least" She added pointing at Drell.

"How dare you Nyx!" grouched Drell. Nyx ignored him and focused solely on Harry.

"What questions do you want to ask?" she said in a tired long-suffering voice.

"Correct me if I'm wrong but this place is old yes? Surely there is not that much left to explore?"

"Of course there is" she paused "at least on the lowest level providing, of course, that you can find your way in through the sublevel"

"What do you mean by that?" She ran her eyes up and down him and it appeared for a second that she might actually care what happened to him just a little.

"Look kid... I like you... just go home ok? The sublevel would tear you apart"

"What do you mean by that?"

"She means" interrupted Drell "that the laigreks will feast on your flesh if you go down there" cackled the Rodian with dark humour.

"Drell! Stop that" Nyx said as she angrily turned to the Rodian. "Don't you have better things to do other than scare children? Like rob some of your customers maybe?"

"I _don't_ rob my customers!" was the shrill response.

"I've seen your prices! 5 credits for a lump of rock? really? Have you no shame?"

Their discussion, as lively as it was, attracted a crowd of _actual_ customers making Drell forget about Harry if only for the moment.

"She is only joking good people! I assure you we are friends!" He plastered a fake smile on his face as he moved towards the nearest person he could see, arms wide "We often joke around".

"So... as you were saying?" prodded Harry.

"Look kid I don't want you to die but, if you're so insistent on going down there, please buy a weapon... if only so you survive to ask me out again". She smiled as she paused a moment "and before you get any ideas that's not me suggesting you do it now, rather it's me protecting a future investment".

"I don't have any money" admitted Harry.

"Of course you don't! That's why you thought it was a good idea to go down there treasure hunting with a bunch of flesh-eating laigreks" she ranted.

"You seem upset" he commented mildly.

"And you young man have a death wish".

"Somehow I highly doubt you are the first person to think that about me" admitted Harry.

"Somehow I'm not surprised... look if you have to go in there hug the walls ok? Be very quiet, no one is quite sure, but we think they track you through sound" she said in a hushed tone.

"Good to know. Anything else?"

"Only that due to cave-ins we've installed a lift to the sublevel and it's through the doors behind me to your right. You won't find much, the sublevel has mostly been picked clean".

Seeing his look she added "Some scavengers did find a hidden door and that's why everyone is here now claiming to have fresh artefacts... but they've been Jedi locked".

"Jedi locked?"

"Yeah they did that Force thing" she wiggled her fingers suggestively "to the hidden door someone uncovered recently right across from the destroyed old entrance to the sublevel".

"And what happened when people tried to tunnel their way down?"

"Laigreks... lots and lots of them. It took us two weeks to collapse the first tunnel but more just keep coming up now"

"Does the lift put me near the locked door?"

"Of course not" she responded

"Of course not" he fatalistically and somewhat cheerfully agreed.

As he stood up to go he couldn't help but ask "One last question? Why haven't the Jedi come back to at least take their treasures?"

"I get the impression that they don't know what's down there but they do try periodically" her eyebrows knitted together in thought "I've lived here since I was 6 years old they come by every 5 years or so... they always mutter something about too much death, the Dark Side and not being healed yet only to come back in another five years and do it all over again." She paused before continuing " I would write it off as Jedi strangeness but they do always look ill when they leave".

"And they just leave the door unlocked?" he queried.

"Well it's not like there's a Sith coming to open the door is there?"

"No" he said distantly "not a Sith"

Snapping abruptly out of his runaway thoughts, he waved to Nyx while drawing his wand.

He didn't notice the other eyes watching him or Nyx. Those eyes belonged to another person that had heard the entire conversation and were calculating the unknown that he was or that Nyx shook her head sadly thinking that another fool was off to die.

It wouldn't have mattered if he had, after all, he had to get home and this might help him do it.

-LAFA-

The only thing that Harry could think as he bandaged his right arm, three hours later, was that this was one of his worst ideas. On reflection, it was right up there with taunting a dragon.

Sure these beasts were not as big but there must have been fifty of the things so far and they liked to attack in groups.

Oh, he thought, and they also breathed fire. In the torrent of information that he got no one and nothing had ever mentioned that they breathed _fucking_ fire!

He was never more full of regret that he wasn't sorted into Ravenclaw than at that very moment. Healing magic wasn't taught as a standard curriculum at Hogwarts which, of course, meant that only Ravenclaws and Hermione learnt it with any consistency.

All he really knew was Episkey for small cuts and Ferula for a bandage and splint that should last just last a few hours. In theory, he also knew Brackium Emendo but as that spell fixed broken bones and he had never done it before he wasn't exactly anxious to try it.

So that was why he was injured, with a deep gash in his right shoulder, behind a small magically locked door, trying against the odds, to figure out a way out without being eaten by the enraged laigreks slamming their bodies so hard into the door that was beginning to split.

He knew that the door would not last long and he would have to have some sort of medical attention soon.

Without more knowledge, the best that Harry could do was bandage his injuries with a bit of robe torn from his sleeve and dipped in an old bottle of (what he assumed) was whiskey that he had managed to find over an hour ago. It sure tasted alcoholic at any rate and it helped with the pain but he honestly couldn't tell what it was as he still didn't know the language.

It seemed that his life was becoming full of strange moments like this.

Resources in the long term were not a problem, due to the Geological Forge, however, it was currently running at a fraction of its capacity.

Not to mention it was so power hungry that it almost made him pass out making the robe or that in its small state it was fully occupied making the cloning equipment and the clone itself.

The state of the clone was another strange moment in and of itself, in a year he would have a crying blood bag that could possibly protect him in the event of death, and neatly bypassed the need to be in the Ratakan cloning chamber to change bodies.

Of course that all depended on him not dying in this tiny room right now or he would never see his friends again, he would never hear Neville's laugh again or the comforting scratch of Hermione's quill.

He would never kiss Luna again.

No. He knew what he needed to do, even if the thought did make him slightly sick. If it came down to a choice between his disgust and not getting home again or dying at this very moment he knew that he had already made his choice.

Mind made up he stood and moved away from the door wand held loosely in his left hand with the fleeting thought that he should have practised with his off hand more.

"Bombarda Maxima" he screamed pointing at the door.

As the chunks of door exploded injuring several of the beasts he gathered himself for what he was about to do. Stupefy bounced of the flesh, cutters did minimal damage, Bombarda did a little more as did other blasting spells but he needed to stop them quickly before they could overwhelm him.

Even now they were pouring through the hole that his spell had made, heedless of their dead kin, he needed them _gone_.

He closed his eyes for a precious second.

He thought in that moment of his many years at the Dursley's home. He thought of the beatings, the humiliations, of Dudley's hand me down clothes and bars on his windows. He thought of when he was a child trying to earn their love and them rejecting him and how much that hurt. He thought of the food scraps that he was only just allowed to eat despite having to cook the food himself.

He also thought of Dumbledore and his platitudes, him forcing Harry back to the Dursley's, each and every year for more abuse. He thought finally of Dumbledore's ridiculous idea of complete forgiveness, letting Snape's abuses pass, the Slytherins racism and allowing him to be tormented with a blood quill instead of taking an incompetent Minister of Magic by the hand or chucking him out of office completely.

He had so much hate at that moment that it was almost as if he could feel it heating the air around him, that he could bathe in it like a great untapped pool of fire. It felt like if he opened his mouth he might choke on it or that it might come out as a vicious acidic flood.

That was exactly what Harry wanted, after all, _Bella_ said you had to want them to work.

"Avada Kedavra" As he somehow knew it would the bright Emerald killing curse flew perfectly and destroyed the life of the beast in front of him.

Three minutes later there were fifteen dead Laigreks and a much more jaded Harry Potter.

He wasn't that way because he had to fight and all kill, no he had done that before, it was the simple fact that he had used a curse that his society deemed abhorrent. More than that though, he had used the same curse that killed his parents, not as a rash decision (like with the Caractacus) but willfully, deliberately and with vicious Intent.

Worst of all, however, was that when he was spitting out the curse, even with the dark magic feeling like a thousand dead flies rolling around in his mouth, a small and very primal part of him had liked it.

He would do it again. He'd do it a thousand times if it meant surviving. If it meant getting home he would learn to use every taboo, every unfair advantage, every dirty trick and exploit and do so without hesitation.

Sirius had died in part so Harry could live and he would not let him down or his parents, or even leave his friends waiting for him. He would make it home and in the meantime, he would do more than that.

He would thrive.

He walked towards the hidden door, killing curses flying and wand spewing a sickly green light at every red-eyed shadow. Soon enough they were not interested in him as food any more as they were too busy eating their siblings.

As he reached the locked door he was very tired, bleeding and teetering on the edge of magical exhaustion. He was after all still only a fifteen-year-old wizard and still a good ten years away from his magical peak.

What he really needed was a few hours rest and a lot of food (also if his hormones were allowed a say, a bubble bath with a very naked and willing Luna but that was beside the point).

It was time to see what was stronger, The Force or Magic "Alohomora!". He felt a great sense of relief then when the door opened without a sound and, more importantly, nothing jumped out trying to eat him.

He leaned against the wall and, as he tried to resist the urge to pass out, he pressed the button to go down to the next and only other level.

As the door opened again he was even more surprised to find that there were absolutely no laigreks here.

Harry wondered if the little buggers had nests either side and/or below this floor. If they did it would protect this room almost like being in the eye of a hurricane. A hungry hurricane with teeth, that could spit fire.

Ahead of him was a hallway with three rooms branching off and, mercy of mercies, the room was named in English of all things though it did have the squiggly language written underneath.

To his right was a room marked emergency storage, to his left was an armoury and in front of them was a room designated only as 'The Vault'.

Curiosity over cryptic names aside, he headed for emergency storage hoping against hope that there were some food rations and some sort of medicine.

For once he was in luck, though he knew better than to expect it to last. After discovering some sort of preserved food and clothes in lockers he made a makeshift bed. He also took some pills (which he hoped were medicine) and proceeded to have a long sleep.

When he woke he felt ready to look around properly and grabbing a backpack from one of the lockers he proceeded to loot to his heart's content. It wasn't until he had to magically unlock 'The Vault' though, that he found the jackpot.

His final tally of loot being; six changes of clothes, a small metal statue, a handful of what looked like hand grenades, fourteen Lightsabers and six Holocrons; (courtesy of The Vault) four of which supposedly belonged to Jedi and two Sith.

Not bad for almost dying again, Harry thought, as he stepped out of the elevator already mentally selling some of his goods.

He almost ran straight into two Rodians. Rodians with blasters.

"Hello again boy" mocked Drell "Thanks for making my partner and me very rich…"

"Well Shit" was Harry's reply

Really what else could he say?


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 Growing Up and Luna's Last Gifts

796 BBY-795 BBY

2,857 ATC-2,858 ATC

Dantooine/ The Wider Galaxy

"So are you a Jedi boy?" asked Drell bluntly

It was a testament to how tired he was that Harry had no sarcastic come back to such a blunt and ridiculous question.

"No" he said as he sighed and looked firmly into Drell's eyes "are you going to kill me now?"

"Only if you don't give me the bag freely kid…" the other Rodian spoke for the first time and, in contrast to Drell, he looked eager for a fight. "Now be a good little boy and give us your bag and you get to go on home".

"If you take my bag you may as well kill me. I'll starve to death". He spoke that last sentence slowly, making it clear that he believed every single word. Drell began to look uncertain even as his friend snorted derisively.

"Boo hoo kid. It's a big wide Galaxy and the sooner you grow up and realise that the better off you will be". His eyes roamed Harry critically "You look just about done in as it is. Maybe we should just put you out of your misery hey?"

Harry stared at Drell, even the merchant looked resigned to this. Harry shrugged.

"I am a survivor". He paused "Just remember _you_ wanted this, not me, and for what it's worth I don't want to do this but you really are giving me no other choice". His wand, still in his left hand, started to pulse ever so slightly with a red light from its tip.

"Ragro maybe we shouldn't?" questioned Drell.

"Be quiet!" Responded the now identified Ragro "We do this and we are rich, no more dealing with idiots for you and true wealth for me, now is _not_ the time to get squeamish. Let's take him now".

With that, both blasters rose up to take his life but Harry was already moving, speed his only ally, diving for cover behind a broken pillar that was barely waist high and screaming a cutting curse as he went.

He was still injured and, despite his nap, pretty much exhausted from fighting his way down to the locked door. It was no great surprise then when his spell did not come out correctly. Instead of the smooth red beam that Harry had expected, there was rather a small pellet of red that made his wand spark and shake almost uncontrollably as it launched from its tip.

There was a scream and the sound of something heavy and wet falling to the floor.

Blaster shots pinged all around him and Harry couldn't help but wonder how much of his life would be about hiding behind something solid as someone or something tried to kill him.

It's not like he could have moved from his corner, after all, though there were two hallways either side of him he would probably be shot in the back the moment he tried to run.

He couldn't help himself, after all he'd been through, a hysterical laugh bubbled up from inside him. It wasn't that he wanted to laugh it was more that he couldn't stop and this seemed to really unnerve Ragro.

"Are you crazy kid! Why won't you just die!" Ragro screamed.

Crazy kid? He could be a crazy kid, thought Harry, it's not like he had another choice apart from dying anyway.

Right then, possibly about to die for the umpteenth time, Harry had a moment of absolute clarity that simultaneously lasted for an eternity and less than a second. The kind of clarity that came with a spine-tingling shiver, a dry mouth and the sudden awareness of a full bladder.

I am always reacting, he thought, ever since I got here I am always going with the flow of events. Even in trying to find his way home I have so far only taken what was offered with very few improvements.

Well no more.

He decided that if he survived here he would actively put his affairs in order and hunt for his home with every idea that he could muster and not just those presented to him. Until he could go home he would find a place in this strange universe and, more than that, he would prosper here.

Left buried deep in his mind was the idea that he would never get home.

In one fluid motion he stood up.

Oh well, Harry mused, it was time for something stupid. Even as it occurred to him that Nyx might have had a point about carrying a weapon.

"Protego" Harry pushed almost every last bit of magic that he had left in him at that moment into his shield hoping only to outlast the blaster that was raining red bolts of death around him.

Thankfully the shield bloomed, a soft blue, protecting him from certain death but all the while draining him of his energy.

Under the constant barrage of fire the shield held. Holding that shield soon became the whole world for Harry, he lost all conception of time and as he sank to one knee, he knew only what it felt like.

His lungs felt like they were on fire, every breath was raw, but at the same time, it felt like his lungs were breathing in a thick suffocating syrup that surrounded his body.

He was covered in sweat and grime and had every reason in the world to give up. A very large part of him wished he could, he wished that he would just give up, give in to the sweet release of death and simply admit that he was only a young traumatised kid far out of his depth.

The odds were good that almost anyone would have given in at that point. They would have consoled themselves with the fact that they had done their best and that they had never really stood a chance anyway.

Well, he was not just anyone.

He was Harry Potter and aside from needing to go home, aside from his friends, aside from his need to see Luna again he was, at his deepest core, a _stubborn_ son of a bitch. He simply was too much of a survivor to die here no matter how much he might actually want to.

Even as each blast hit the shield like a boulder and made him sweat with every gut-wrenching blow even as his mouth formed a silent snarl.

His body demanded that he live even as his mind felt the agony of his magic being syphoned away down into what was ultimately a ridiculous defence.

Eventually Harry's perseverance paid off as, instead of a multitude of blows to his shield, Harry heard possibly the sweetest sound in all of existence. The dull click of a trigger being pulled on a spent weapon was, to him, like angels singing from the heavens.

Gasping so hard he almost cried he let the shield drop even as his wand fell from his numb fingers.

"Well kid... You really are special. Just be glad I'm not a slaver or you'd be some Hutts curiosity next week" said Ragro even as he threw his blaster away and drew a wicked looking vibroblade. "Oh well it doesn't matter"

Harry had no wand in hand and barely enough energy to lift his head to look the Rodian in the eye, let alone fight back against the advancing figure who clearly wished to kill him. All he saw was his own death advancing upon him with nothing left for him to do.

No. Not today.

Instinctively he threw his mind at the wannabe murderer and using Legilimency crushed his psyche like crushing a grape in his fist.

Both Ragro and Harry collapsed.

One was a vegetable never to get up again and soon to be eaten by Laigreks and the other was almost crushed under the weight of information that was rushing into his mind filling it with new knowledge and new ideas.

One month later

Harry finished packing his satchel.

The same one, he thought wistfully, that Luna had given him before he walked through the Veil. She had also, it appeared, been able to put an expansion charm on it as it was able to carry a lot more than it should.

Apart from his clothes and his haul from the Temple the satchel included a credit chip with just under 7,000 credits on it. As it used to be Ragro's he knew the security codes and had no problem in taking or rather stealing it, after all, he _was_ going to kill him.

While taking a final look around the room Harry couldn't help but reflect on the last month. He knew that the next time he would be back would be for his clone in under a year and, if that thought was not crazy enough by itself to either break or hone him, everything else that had happened was.

In this last month, he had truly allowed himself to grieve for Sirius while under the watchful gaze of the dispassionate droid (who he had finally named Minnie as he couldn't keep calling it Droid forever).

It was in expressing his grief that he found his first moments of true peace in this strange new place.

Often he would lay, wrapped in a blanket, against the door of the room that had become Sirius's Tomb and talk, into the empty night.

It did not matter really what was said, sometimes it was about days Harry had lived without Sirius, sometimes about days he wished he had lived with him. Occasionally nothing was said at all and he just rested against the door, unable to express the depth of loss that filled him because to him he hadn't just lost his Godfather as he was but also as he should have been if the world were fairer.

He also spent time coming to terms with what he had done to Ragro and, the surprisingly much more difficult task, of integrating his knowledge while stripping away the personality remnants using Legilimency.

After all, Harry acknowledged at the time, there was no point in gaining knowledge if it led to an identity crisis or a split personality. That was not to say he was remotely tempted to try it ever again.

The instinctual attack, such as it was, made the enemy's mind collapse in on itself in a very unpredictable pattern.

This meant, that while Harry could absorb memories, the mind that he was connected to was collapsing and dying while he was doing so. For that reason alone Harry thought the price was too high.

It wasn't just that he'd made Ragro as much of a vegetable as Neville's parents or that he had simply left him to die (Harry considered it a mercy he did not deserve especially after seeing some of Ragro's darker memories) so that the laigreks ate him before some vengeful soul came upon him for all the horrible things he had done.

The main reason he didn't want to do it again, however, had nothing to do with morals or the quality of mind that he would go into.

The reason that he wouldn't do it again was that he felt him start to die, they were connected like a computer downloading from the Internet, and as the brain started to collapse Harry felt it as if it were his.

Every millisecond felt like a month… followed only by the deep hollow and gnawing emptiness where a living mind used to be and one that hungered to take him with it.

Not something he wanted to do again.

After he was able to reconstitute the knowledge into some sort of useful order he found that he had small nuggets of useful information, locations of black market dealers spread throughout the Republic, names of Bounty Hunters and Assassins, both those to hire and those to avoid as Ragro knew them.

More importantly for his immediate needs was the fact that he could now read the common tongue, as well as its written form that was called Aurebesh, he even learnt that the other language wasn't called English but was called the High Galactic alphabet and it was possibly the older of the two.

It was also a lead.

Harry found it highly unlikely that two societies that had no contact with each other would form the exact same language. To him, this meant that either someone had visited Earth without anyone knowing or someone from Earth had spread out to the stars.

Aside from his clothes and loot the only other things that were going into the satchel were the two books Luna had left for him. The wand pieces and electronic copies of Luna's books were going to be left behind with Minnie.

Luna's choice in books was more than a little strange.

There was no great treatise on Battle Magic, no super locator spells or notes on the Fidelius Charm. They weren't even books on things like the animagus transformation or apparition which (to his chagrin) he still couldn't do.

Although he did concede it would be very difficult, if not impossible, to do that with no major accidents without many detailed books or teacher and so was probably a lost cause anyway.

The titles of the two books that Luna sent with him were _A Complete Guide to Basic And Common Runes_ as well as _Rituals And You: The Sacrifices Of The Permanent Path_. He did have to say that despite being befuddling reads they were at least interesting.

 _Basic Runes_ was what you might expect in a guide to semi-permanent or rarely (at least in the basic and common edition the forward noted) permanent applications of the Nordic, Anglo-Saxon and Egyptian runes to greatly improve someone's daily life or at least make it somewhat easier.

 _Rituals And You_ , however, was a complete surprise mainly due to the fact that there were no rituals in the book whatsoever.

What it was instead was a guide into the dangers of rituals, not just making your own, but also, rituals in general. There was a reason the book warned why rituals were considered both dangerous and an art rather than a science.

So far Harry understood three things about rituals from the book. First (which appeared to be very simple) you get nothing if you give nothing, second he learned that intent was the largest factor to any ritual anyone would ever make which was why it could not be fully understood in the same way as spells and, most importantly, third he understood that there was so much that he still did not understand.

Quite honestly the idea of rituals unnerved him slightly and without magical books or continuing his magical education, he wasn't going to be casting homemade rituals any time soon or using them to get home.

If they truly were more of an art than science then, Harry pondered, he would be more of a forger then an artist due to his incomplete knowledge on the subject. Still, rituals remained one of the most powerful forms of magic as Harry had read that even non-magicals had participated and affected rituals using that spark of magic that all life possessed.

What he did have was the knowledge of how to use most Republic technology and the items scavenged from both Ragro and Drell's bodies, as it turned out, the poorly executed Cutting Curse had hit Drell in the throat.

Finding answers from and in this world rather than the magical one seemed best at the moment.

It seemed that he was developing a disturbing habit of waking up next to dead bodies though and when he had done so next to Ragro there had been no Minnie to clean up the blood. It was not something he wanted to repeat.

Most of the things he'd gained were sadly either of low quality or too obviously taken from a dead body. Ordinarily, that wouldn't have been a problem since their previous owners were criminals who had attempted to kill him.

Unfortunately, Harry would be unable to explain to a satisfying degree why he did not have a birth certificate, was not in any of their computers, and did not even have anything as simple as a record of the ship that he came in on. At least not without giving up the Ruins and all they contained.

In short, if he told the truth people would ask him questions that he did not wish to answer or they would lock him away as a brand new mental patient. Neither of these was an appealing option.

He did get two blasters plus accompanying holsters.

However, when he sold Ragro's basic blaster to Nyx she looked at him with wide eyes that darted to the empty store across from her before moving quickly back to his face.

She said nothing of course, though unfortunately, Harry didn't think he would be getting a dinner date anytime soon. It didn't help that the credit chip used to belong to someone else and clearly, she knew or suspected who it used to be as she nodded somewhat satisfied at it being in his hands.

He had taken her previous advice to heart though and did not sell Drell's blaster, after all, it was a Sorosuub Security S-5 blaster.

From Ragro's memories (he had wanted the exact same model but hadn't had enough money for it) he knew that although it wasn't the best or the most powerful of the heavy blasters on the market it was one of the most versatile with a grappling spike (8 meters maximum length) and a dart launcher as standard. Once he realised what model it was he had, of course, bought a couple of dart canisters from Nyx, although she would only sell him knockout darts.

Gathering his satchel, pocketing his credit chip, and holstering his blaster on the opposite side to his wand Harry moved to leave this place for the next eleven months.

Almost as an afterthought, he took a small handheld market computer that Drell had owned.

It fit comfortably in the palm of your hand and told you the average market price of common and well-known items that you scanned with it.

You never know, Harry thought, when something like that might come in handy. Besides if not, he jokingly mused, where I'm going I might just have to scan everything to pass the time on my very long trip.

On his way out he touched the door to Sirius's Tomb almost in a form of caress.

"See you soon old man" he whispered.

Harry would be gone for almost exactly eleven months and when he returned on his next visit it would be his last.

Managing to hail down a passing speeder a short while later he was able to beg a lift to the local spaceport and finally leave Dantooine and see the rest of the galaxy.

-LAFA-

Striding up to the information and ticket desk he smiled at the middle-aged human typing tiredly away

"One ticket to Nar Shaddaa, please….on the next transport available"

"That would be the _Wayward Son_ " responded the human without even a flicker of interest on his face. "It leaves in one hour".

The clerk then proceeded to hold up his hand for Harry's credit chip not even looking up. Once Harry got his chip back the bored man continued as if reading from a script "The trip will take approximately three weeks. Good day".

On Board _The Wayward Son_

After just two days Harry was mind-numbingly bored especially with no one to talk to.

It appeared that there was no one who wanted to visit the smuggler's moon travelling from Dantooine but him. Worse the ship was fully automated with exceptionally cheap and simple droids.

That didn't mean that he hadn't enjoyed the first day of quiet, casually leafing through the two books Luna had given him and simply resting in his bunk.

By rest, of course, he meant no life-threatening situations. He began to realise however that travelling in space alone without anything to do and no one to talk to was a bit like solitary confinement. Harry was many things but he was, more often than not, an action or task oriented person.

As he didn't feel like exploring a small, almost derelict, transport Harry tried to re-read his books.

That did not last long and he quickly through the books back into the bag in frustration. Just as he was about to flop onto the bed and be resigned to boredom Harry heard a clatter and looked down.

The market computer, he thought, perhaps my joke had some merit after all he thought.

Oddly enough, according to the market computer, the two books were worth around 800 credits each as, although they were from an unknown world, books in general were important historical artefacts. Though the cheeky machine did flash the words subject to further evaluation.

The lightsabers were worth a lot more around 3,000 each meaning Harry could expect around half that. This would mean a total profit of between 14,000 and 21,000 for the lightsabers alone if he sold them.

The big surprise was the Statue however, it was called Ulric's Folly according to the computer, and depicted a man, head half bowed holding an unlit lightsaber looking sorrowfully off into the middle distance.

The computer screen produced a green light followed by the word masterwork and then a price of 16,000 credits for the four-kilogram statue, which was made all the more impressive as the statue itself was about the size of Harry's forearm and made of a metal called Phrik.

From his acquired memories, Harry knew that Phrik was a rare metal alloy famous for being very resistant to lightsabers and was considered very hard to destroy.

"I wonder" Harry mused aloud "Gemino". After a bright flash of light, Harry proceeded to scan an almost identical statue. Red lights and the word forgery, as well as advice to contact local security, was not very encouraging to him.

Maybe making a statue was too complex for the Gemino Curse and that's why it was called a curse people kept trying to copy complex things and got poor results.

Harry closed his eyes and concentrated, less on the shape of the statute but rather on his memory of the feel of the metal and the tactile sensation of it absorbing the heat from his skin.

"Gemino" he whispered eyes still closed and focusing on the memory. He opened his eyes to find a rough lump of Phrik weighing only a kilogram and, as he picked it up, it did feel right. There was just one final test, he thought, waving the computer over the new lump.

The computer flashed green and showed the words Phrik and 200 credits.

Harry sat down heavily, that had taken quite a lot out of him and, wiping the sweat from his brow, he couldn't help being pleased. He needed to find out how much of that metal he could make and the minimum amount of magic that would be needed.

If he could get the energy low enough he might be able to finally start implementing his ideas of finding and hopefully getting home.

He grinned.

Finally, he had something to do.

Six Months Until The Clone Matures

After buying necessities (including a top of the line false history that stated he was born in Nar Shaddaa) and spending even more on designs for a pilot/explorer droid and a custom long range searching craft Harry was almost broke again as he simply couldn't make enough Phrik by himself to keep up with the costs.

On the other hand, he now had a personal history that would surpass all but the most microscopic of searches.

He rented and lived in a well to do area of Nar Shaddaa (if there was such a thing) and had bought several of his newly designed pilot droids as well as the long-range crafts uploaded with the projected life cycle of the solar system and sent them off into the unknown regions looking for his home or some hint of it.

Included in that search was a directive to search for any hint of the High Galactic Alphabet, a language that could be related to it, or it's possible roots.

He was only able to equip two before he ran out of money.

That was three months ago and in those next three months he had become intimately familiar with unspoken lessons of Nar Shaddaa and had begun to accept them.

The lessons, such as they were, were very simple. First and foremost you had to protect yourself because otherwise you would be dead and can do nothing at all. The second lesson was to protect what was important to you above all else (which Harry took to mean the people he cared for and getting home) and the last was really a lesson that threaded throughout the others and informed your every action.

This lesson was that you can help others or help yourself, never both, and to try to do so was to court a quick death.

All of that was important in that it helped to explain why Harry, at that point three months ago, had done what any capable person living on Nar Shaddaa would have done.

He had found the nearest Hutt who wasn't considered completely untrustworthy, this one was called Ziya, a young eager slug that was desperate to make a name for itself and who paid well.

For the next three months it has gone quite well consisting mostly of some fetch and carry work (though he made it a point never to ask what was inside), occasionally a little intimidation but in all honesty that was about all.

It also allowed him to get some experimental flash training (thankfully Legilimency allowed him to avoid the serious pitfalls of that method of learning) and gain some much-needed skills that he thought necessary not only to survive but thrive. This included marksmanship and weapon care, basic piloting, basic maintenance, finance and (quite illegally) slicing to name but a few.

Though flash training was ordinarily for clones (being the memories of the original genetic template) on Nar Shaddaa anything could be attempted at least once and there was a thriving black market of 'donated' memories.

It did, however, mean that the mental problems that you were likely to get became a near certainty (Harry was never more happy to know Legilimency to avoid _that_ particular problem) and if the doctor was a bad one you could easily die from any number of brain traumas. Harry did not pick a bad one for such an experimental procedure.

He also did not fall into the basic trap of resting on his flash trained skills instead he practised them (or at least the marksmanship, basic finance and slicing) as much as he could, first to alleviate boredom, then as a mental exercise and finally as a point of pride.

Though if Harry was honest, even with flash training, he was a very poor slicer as he simply didn't have a knack for machines.

He spent the last of his money on bribing a Republic Committee to give him (or rather a company he owned called Potter Industries) the right to colonize, terraform and mine a single planetary system in the Unknown regions assuming that he could find a safe hyperspace route and also a useful system.

That single bribe alone had eaten over 70% of his profits and the license itself had to be used within a year or he would have to bribe them again. The only valuable things that were left in his satchel were the lightsabers and Luna's books.

He had a plan for the former and would _never_ sell the latter.

Now he was back in Ziya's dark hole (or as the Hutt called it a Mansion), standing before the driven and overeager slug looking for more work.

It was not I disliked Hutts, he thought, it is more that they are concerned only with the appearance of great power and collecting personal wealth for their pleasure. Even Ziya's Mansion was dark, dank and depressing despite the rooms being cavernous, the music very loud and the drink very cheap.

It could have also been down to the fact that apart from Ziya's business associates (of which he supposed he was one) the most common sentients in the room were slaves of both genders generously provided by the Snow family for a 'modest' fee of course.

"I am sorry James" Harry had no doubt that not only did Ziya know that name was false but probably knew his real name as well, after all, Hutts may be slugs but they survived by being shrewd. "I have none of your usual work available".

This was bad, Harry thought, without regular work, I will be evicted, become homeless and most likely die from a knife in the back which is often called 'natural causes' in Nar Shaddaa.

Worse, looking at the Hutt's face it (Harry had never worked out Ziya's gender nor did he care to) knew that and was most likely pleased to have him over a barrel. He would not be surprised to find out that Ziya knew exactly how much money he had in his bank account, how much his rent cost and probably a whole lot more besides. "I do have special work for you though".

He knew what Ziya wanted.

Assassination.

The Harry of a year ago would have screamed a denial, killing in combat was one thing murder was another. The Harry of six months ago would have pondered (and had done so twice before already) the request and eventually decided against it.

This Harry had lived on Nar Shaddaa for six months, he had breathed the planet's air, he had seen the very rich and the starving poor, the favoured and the dregs, the survivors and the lost.

He knew the lessons of Nar Shaddaa even as Ziya sweetened the pot "It pays 25,000 credits"

"Who do you want me to kill?"

Ziya smiled.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Clone And A New Home With A Twist

795BBY - 794BBY

2,858 ATC - 2,859 ATC

Dantooine/Cadi System

As the _Homeward Bound_ landed near the ruins six months later no living soul was nearby and the only sound was the wind gently moving playfully in the long grass.

The relative peace of this moment was soon shattered by the sharp sound of hydraulics from the heavily modded Dynamic Class Freighter as it's exit ramp lowered.

If someone were to take a tour of the ship they would note that the port dormitory and the hallway leading to it had been heavily altered and merged with the cargo bay doubling its cargo size from 60 tonnes to 120.

They would also notice (if allowed) a custom x0.75 Hyperdrive (with a x4 backup) and may even muse that although the utilitarian freighter was bought, more often than not, because it was easy to modify it did cut down on its traditional passenger capacity, lowering that from ten people to three.

All of this along with some pretty impressive shielding made for a unique freighter.

What they would not be allowed to see was the two medium laser cannons for defence and two independently powered light laser cannons for point defence however of all the things that they would not be allowed to see these, of course, would be the least interesting.

First and foremost, hidden in a false wall of what used to be the port dormitory, was a fully functioning cryo-cycle stasis pod with an attached brainwave reader. Inside was a blood bag of a fifteen-year-old boy in stasis.

The the second and last secret of the ship (in the security room) was a hidden panel concealing darts for his gun. These darts came in packs of four and there were three of them.

One pack was a heavy sedative designed to knock someone out for a week, one was a pain-inducing psychedelic that incapacitated and hurt the victim for up to ten minutes although it did no permanent damage.

It was the last packet however that really required secrecy as these darts were etched individually with a indestructible rune and tipped with Basilisk venom. The venom was filtered slowly from Harry's blood and added to the tip.

The problem with this, of course, was that the venom was so corrosive that it destroyed the instruments as you used them unless you put an indestructible rune on them and even with that both the instruments and the dart itself would be eaten by the venom in about a month.

The exterior of the ship was built almost exactly the same as a standard stock Dynamic Class Freighter except that it was painted a deep rich blue with bronze accents. There was even a picture of a small eagle seemingly flaring its wings around a lion painted on the bottom off the exit ramp.

Down the exit ramp strolled a man, his heavy boots clunking with every step, who the crime Lords of Nar Shaddaa and beyond knew only as James and whose heavy boots, dark trousers, battered utility belt and light shirt were almost hidden by a distinctive reddish-brown duster that was beginning to become almost as famous in the right circles as the man who wore them (at least in the Outer Rim).

If the Crime Lords had any complaint it was that no one, save perhaps Ziya, had ever seen his face as it was hidden behind a plain silver mask that only had eye holes for features and nothing else.

Of course, they were also annoyed by the other thing, the thing that not many of them spoke of, that was almost completely alien to them and they would never want. This Bounty Hunter and Assassin had _ethics_.

Not that he was afraid to kill you or that he would hesitate in any fashion it was more that he simply would not kill children and even spared a thought for collateral was so mystifying to the, by and large, Hutt group that someone would shackle themselves in that way and do so willingly.

They never mentioned their complaints however as he was fast becoming the most competent option available and, added to that, you knew that once he took a job he always saw it through.

This could have angered the people that bought his services but they were soothed however as it also meant that no one else could buy his loyalty mid-contract and terminate their lives.

The man wore no armour and his only weapons appeared to be a small stick in a sheath on his left-hand side and a well-used blaster in a holster on his right.

Those that had fought him and survived were the first to point out that though he lacked armour, he was pinpoint accurate and very very fast.

His contacts, in the underbelly of most of the Galaxy, knew him only as James. The Core Worlds and the Senate, however, knew him as James Harrison Potter the CEO of Potter Industries (the company was very poor and had only one non-droid member at present).

His real name was Harry James Potter.

As Harry descended the ramp he was followed by two floating ball droids and he turned to them and said

"Get me samples. Plants and animals". without a sound of acknowledgement, they were off loaded with sample kits and tranquillizer darts.

Finally, the last droid that came down the ramp was an A1-B archive droid that followed him silently, lacking a brain it instead was programmed simply to follow.

As he walked into the Ruins Harry couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment, as soon he would have a functional way to keep himself going while he searched for his home.

That was not to say there were not a few kinks in the plan that he would prefer to work out at some point but for now, as long as a clone was ready, he could live for hundreds if not thousands of years while he hunted for his friends.

If he could pull off becoming Force Sensitive to any degree then he was all for it as not only would that help him to increase his lifespan (meaning that he needed fewer clones hopefully) but more importantly for his immediate future having seen the Jedi fight twice in his travels, he knew how impressive they could be.

One of the fights was simply to break up a brawl, the other was to stop a murder.

In both cases the Jedi had, had quicker reactions than their attackers (reactions that Harry ruefully admitted he would be hard-pressed to match), they were also better trained as well. They controlled a power that made simple wandless magic, which was the best the greatest of wizards that Harry had seen could hope for, seem like a silly parlour trick.

They stopped the brawl simply by showing up and announcing themselves meaning, Harry mused, that they were either greatly feared or greatly respected. Given their power, it was probably both. It was the murder where things became interesting though.

Harry had watched off to the side as they had entered the rundown Cantina. Sipping his drink, while reinforcing his Occlumency shields and feeling what he assumed was the Force sweep past his mind (or at least the innocent bit that he had left uncovered).

Not everyone had these particular skills however as the two Jedi seemed to hone in on their target as one.

From everything he had read and the very particular braid on the younger ones head they were clearly Master and Padawan. The murderer, whoever he was, was heavily armoured and noticed their attention almost as quickly as Harry had done. The armoured man reached for his blaster and within a few seconds, it was over.

It was over because the younger one, the Padawan, had lept an almost impossible distance lightsaber flaring to life with a blue glow and even as the murderer's blaster came up the young Jedi landed and removed his enemies arm and leg from his body.

Harry hadn't even had time to put down his drink.

He needed that advantage if he was going to fight one of the darkest wizards, if not the darkest wizard, of the modern age.

As he finally stood in front of Minnie Harry could think of only one thing left to say.

"Report".

"I am afraid that there has been a slight malfunction with your clone" stated Minnie in her unfeeling voice.

"What do you mean malfunction? Is the clone damaged?"

"No Harry, however, it appears that there has been a slight miscalculation in the maturation cycle of the clone. It is a mistake that will be corrected with every future clone however It cannot be repaired in this one"

"What mistake in maturation? How old is my clone?"

"It has been grown to an approximate age of twenty-one. Do you wish to terminate?"

"No Minnie twenty-one is fine, in fact, let us make eighteen to twenty-one the standard age range from now on for my clones"

"Understood. I must add that your blood bags, as requested, are made from essentially unaltered Harry Potter DNA so they will always be fifteen".

"People always seem to underestimate and disregard children which will be quite useful as a measure against detection however it is not as useful in making your mark in the Galaxy". He then eventually went on to add "Are there any other problems?"

"None Sir, though as predicted, your Force clone will not have a great aptitude or very strong connection to the Force. No items currently in my records contain strong enough traces to adequately substitute for Nemo's degraded DNA".

"So I need a stronger sample?" he queried.

"More like a fresher or better-preserved sample. I must warn you, however, the risk of taking it from a live Jedi is extreme and they also tend to safeguard their dead against genetic tampering by burning them. I would also add that it would be best for you to get a sample from a human Jedi as I do not know and cannot predict what the outcome would be to your physiology if you were to splice DNA from anything other than a human or near human".

"That's okay" said Harry even as he moved past Minnie towards the Rakatan Cloning Cylinder and the hollow oblong that was the transfer device connected to it. "I have an idea about that... did you receive my instructions?"

"Yes Harry five more cloning vats have been assembled and now six brain dead dragons are growing inside. As you requested their health has been sacrificed to maximize their growth and though this means they will never fly they will be ready to move out of their vats by the end of the day".

"My other requests Minnie?"

"All pieces of wand wood and all organic substances are now stored in my archives as well as the backup archives. Your other request will be ready when you awaken from the transfer procedure".

"Thank you, Minnie. Once all other tasks are complete please install the backup archives" he reached into his pocket and pulled out a droid brain "as well as this into the A1-B droid behind me".

"Droid designation?"

"Hermione".

"Understood" stated Minnie.

Harry walked into the hollow centre of the transfer device and hit the blinking red light inside the otherwise featureless black oblong. The light turned green and his world erupted in fire as his body was broken down into atoms shunted into the, noticeably larger, Geological Engine and his spirit was forcefully shunted up and across before finally being forced down into the clone.

He awoke a few minutes later gasping for air with new lungs and seeing the world with new eyes. As he sat up he realised that he was in the same bed that he had found himself in one year ago and though everything else in his life has changed he still ended up here in this bed.

He found great comfort in that.

That was especially true lately as he had begun to realise that even if he were to find his way home, and he hoped he would, he was rapidly becoming someone very different to the person who left.

He was also smart enough to realise that human beings were the sum of their memories and quite a few of his used to belong to other people. He could limit that effect especially with legilimency however even if he did he would still have skills that his friends did not and quite possibly, if it took long enough, hundreds of years of experience that would colour his viewpoint.

So he took comfort in the little things like a familiar bed.

Taking a moment he evaluated what was different about this body compared to his last. He stood 6 feet 2 inches tall (or 1.88 metres) thanks to the fact that this body had not suffered the tender loving care of the Dursleys or the malnutrition that came with it.

He also felt no scars or wounds from either Hogwarts, the Department of Mysteries or his year here. By design, he also had a small cluster of runes hidden by a larger Rune of Fire developed on his clone in the same way a birthmark develops on a normal body.

There was something more than that however and if asked to explain it later Harry would probably smile and simply answer "The Force". It was the truth but at the same time much more complex than that.

Could you explain colour to a blind man or the soft speech of a lover to a deaf man? Thought Harry.

The closest analogy that might serve and that Harry could come up with was drawn from when he was five swimming with his Primary School class including Dudley.

He remembered that it was an extremely hot day and that all the children were desperate to get in the pool. It was small and rickety with old wooden steps that all the 10-year-olds ignored as they ran and jumped into the pool as quickly as they could. Harry had followed slightly behind not wanting to draw attention to himself.

Fairly soon all the children were enjoying themselves and even Harry began to relax under the soft water that leached the heat, ever so gently, from his skin. That was his mistake as Dudley took advantage of his relaxation to quickly plunge his head and most of his body under the water.

The teachers did not notice this as they were distracted by the other children, not on purpose mind you, and if they had they may have simply thought the cousins were playing as Dudley always categorised their 'games' as play to grown-ups.

All he heard was the swishing of water in his ears and all he could feel was his cousins iron like grip keeping his head away from the surface. Slowly his eyes began to darken and the air in his lungs was quite suddenly replaced with water, he began choking until he managed, through blind luck, to knock Dudley over with his frantic flailing of limbs.

His head suddenly broke the surface and he vomited what felt like half his body weight in water.

For a short time after that experience (maybe only five minutes) 10-year-old Harry had found sound sharper, colours truer, and tastes stronger.

If he had to describe what it felt like to be connected to the Force, and he could trust the person who he was talking to with this story, he would say it was like that but with the added bonus that when he meditated, was under threat or able to concentrate for a long while he could begin to feel connected to everything.

Added to all of this was the fact that his reflexes, already exceptionally fast, had increased significantly.

Harry supposed that he had a unique viewpoint on it as to a natural force sensitive they were born to the Force and couldn't adequately compare the differences the same way he could.

"Minnie my clothes and things?" he asked even as he was handed and began to dress in a slightly altered (for his new height) set of clothes.

Minnie came up to him and mutely handed him his belt, minus his wand holster, which he looped around his waist and then proceeded to put on a clean white shirt hiding the rune on his skin.

"Right then Minnie I guess it's time to test this clones aptitude with the Force. Please get me the Rakatan notes on basic Force exercises but do not bother with the Holocrons at the moment as I fear their lessons may be too advanced". He paused and then added "Is it ready?" Again silently she passed him a wooden ring which was made of combined cloned Holly wood and Phoenix Feather.

As he placed it on his finger it glowed a very bright yellow if only briefly.

Harry may not have the true spell repertoire of a trained wizard but he had managed point casting, which was mostly about minimising your movements until there were none, it was also supposedly considerably easier than wandless magic (a feat very few if any wizards were capable of to any degree).

That wasn't to say Harry did not have problems with that method as he still hadn't mastered point casting for many spells but then he had mastered a few, enough he hoped, to make a difference if he was ever caught off guard.

He was also quite sentimental about his wand as it represented a very visceral link to his home and the people he was trying to get home to, so he would prefer not to take it into battle if it could be avoided.

Of course, he could make another one but that was hardly the point, it wouldn't be the same, so he requested Minnie have this made.

He quietly put his wand into his satchel. Testing his ring could wait, he had work to do.

Summoning the Ratakan notes and slowly centring himself he set to work.

Six hours later he was monumentally disappointed.

He discovered from touching them that he could activate the Holocrons, and learn from them, at least in theory.

This is brilliant, thought Harry, if only my ability to grasp and manipulate the Force was on par with the theoretical lessons the Rakatan notes provided, let alone what might be learned from the Holocrons, and not so abysmal.

Progress was incredibly slow, he would take one step back for every two steps forward. It wasn't that it was bad, as he had been half expecting it, it was more that if it was a complete failure then he could stop and focus on other ideas to help himself.

The promise of this one day working to its full potential was simply too useful to ignore.

He did eventually try and learn all the Force skills he could from the Rakatan notes and he found, as expected, that most of the skills they offered were simply beyond him.

It was clear to him then that at this point his connection to the Force was too weak. Even his emotions, which could enhance both certain spells and the Force when used, enabled him only to use telekinesis to push or pull very light objects.

To say that this annoyed him would be the understatement of the century.

However just because his strength was so limited it didn't mean he could learn absolutely nothing merely that he would have to find a good teacher. Maximizing his limited potential by the notes and possibly the Holocrons would take far too long and would involve too much trial and error.

"Minnie are the dragons ready for transport?"

"Yes sir" she paused "though I feel I must reiterate that they will never fly and will live for less than a day once out of the Cloning Chambers".

"Not a problem Minnie. What is the status of Hermione?"

"Her installation was a success as was the synthskin coating. She is now on board your ship stored with the twenty builder droids that are already there. All of the samples and the Archives themselves are not only compressed and recorded in Hermione's internal memory but also your ship's computer. I would advise that you transfer the memory from Hermione within a few weeks or you may risk errors both with the data and the droid itself. The Geological Forge is also safely stored there as well".

"How much power do you have left?" Harry paused then added quickly "what about the cloning Chambers?"

"I have three weeks power left after the rapid maturation of the dragons and the Cloning Chambers will fail without a power source within two days".

"What about your power source for the Cloning Chambers?"

"My power source would provide one month of energy sir"

"Minnie perform the final protocol"

"Understood sir" was the toneless response

With these final words lightning arched from Minnie to the computer that was in the room with her and (as Harry requested in the protocol) he knew it also destroyed any computer it was networked to.

More than that though, the effect was designed in such a way that the information stored in the computers was first scrambled before it was destroyed. This meant that if anyone wanted to recover the information it was almost impossible as it was encrypted as a matter of course then scrambled while being destroyed by the final protocol.

Harry turned to a now scrambled and almost lifeless Minnie reaching inside her chest removing the power source and giving the room one final look to make sure everything was taken. The Holocrons were safely stored on the ship (having been moved while he was experimenting) as were the droids, the archives, and the Cloning Chambers.

Even the ball droids had returned in the six hours it had taken for Harry to explore his severely lacking strength in the Force.

All that was left in the Ruins then was some empty rooms, Sirius's Tomb, a bed and a mirror as well as some scrap that used to be Minnie and the computers that once governed the Ruins.

It wasn't some monument to the Builders, if Harry had ever treated it as such, no memory of an ancient and twisted Empire, no cradle for their rebirth or even a monument to their defeat. It was now, in Harry's opinion, what it should always have been. A monument to a great man, a man who though he hadn't been his father had tried his best and was one of the only people (certainly the only adult) who actually tried to go out of his way to help him.

Thinking back Harry had come to the conclusion that Sirius was the only adult trying to guide him to a better life rather than tell him what one was. Given that a massive tomb seemed to reflect, not just his Godfather's importance but also the crucial nature of the way he had informed and affected Harry's life.

After all the most Harry knew about Tombs was that the bigger they are the more important the person was, and Sirius had been the most important figure save perhaps Luna (or the idea of her) in his life so far.

Finally ready to leave on his way out Harry glanced at the mirror on the wall and he couldn't help but be curious as to exactly what a twenty-year-old Harry Potter would have really looked like. Of course in this body, he was taller than in the original as he had noticed before but it was not just that he was optimally grown and properly nourished that was different.

The face that stared back at him had a great deal in common with that of James Potter, though less than the original fifteen-year-old Harry Potter from what he remembered.

His hair was longer falling down in a simple fashion to the top of his shoulders (oddly enough, when longer it was easier to manage) and his cheekbones were less like James Potter and actually much more reminiscent of his mother Lily.

Thinking of his mother, he was relieved to note that he still had her eyes. They were still green and still full of life, but if someone looked closely, there was a hardness to those vibrant eyes that wouldn't have been present before his trip through the Veil.

He moved slowly to the room that had become Sirius's Tomb, his footfalls echoed in the now empty corridor, almost as if the Ruins themselves knew the solemness of this last visit, the finality of it.

Reaching out a trembling hand to the door of the tomb its rough surface coarse on his hand. This was the final time, the only time, left that Harry would have with his Godfather ever. He knew it had to be this way because he had to keep moving, keep going forward, for as far as he could and for as long as he could.

That didn't mean that he would forget Sirius, the thought, he would always live in Harry's memories but that was where he would have to stay as he couldn't afford to dwell on the past if he was going to find his way home.

The irony of that thought was not lost on him.

In the end, he had no profound words, no teary goodbyes to make as he felt they had all been said before and he had no tears left.

"Goodbye" he paused, clearing his throat, and continued with "I hope you're happy wherever you are".

He stood there for the longest time trying to think of anything else to say.

Nothing came and so he patted the door with a bittersweet smile on his face as he took a final moment to remember the totality that was his Godfather and left Sirius's Tomb for the last time.

Throughout all his life he would go to many places and be many things but he would never step foot there again.

The Cadi System

His first view of the Cadi System was promising even though there was only one habitable planet which the Rakatan histories imaginatively called Cadi 1.

The four other planets were a mixture of dead rock and a single gas giant.

The only planet that was within the Goldilocks zone was Cadi 1 and it was also the closest planet to the sun with the other three fairly evenly spaced throughout the system stopping with the furthest (the gas giant) Cadi 5.

Cadi was one of the last systems discovered by the Rakatan before the fall of the Empire, with a 40% landmass, it was a world studded with beautiful indigo lakes, dense forests and rolling plains. The air was also perfect for humanoids with no discernible viruses or parasites, a 26 hour day and a stable 420 day rotation although, on the downside, there were very few mountain ranges.

That was not what made Cadi promising however.

What made the planet interesting was the fact that there was a stable Hyperspace route (which as far as Harry could make out was very rare) and, both from the records and his latest scans, there was no life with the exception of grass, trees, a few thousand fish and countless algae. That and the fact that no one else had discovered the planet in the meantime.

He quietly brought in the _Homeward Bound_ to land.

Half a day later, on the largest landmass on the planet and overlooking a 3,000-foot gorge, Harry stood chanting.

He was surrounded by several runic circles drawn from memory (the fragmented ones from the Horcrux) and painstakingly imbued with his magic. Throughout the circles were six straight chalk lines shaped almost like gutters or channels that met in the very centre of the circles and glowed with emerald fire. Next to him were the brain dead and quick grown dragons that were arranged so as to put three on his left and three on his right.

He had no wand as this was not that kind of magic but rather Ritual Magic with all the perils and bonuses that rituals could bestow on their users.

Harry felt magic falling like raindrops from his very pores while chanting almost incomprehensibly and yet, at the same time, nearly musically in Old English.

Sweat poured down his face in a torrent even as he stretched his arms wide and clenched his hands in fists. His breathing was laboured and his magic was almost depleted Harry's voice raised half in supplication and half in desperation as, little by little, the magic responded.

First his hands began to glow then the air around them began to spark and finally, the green glow around his hands stretched like taffy and met the sparks above his fist forming blades. As his voice rose to a fantastic crescendo his arms snapped forward in one smooth motion cutting deep into the necks of all six dragons.

As some of their lifeblood spattered on the runes the emerald fire that was almost imperceptibly shimmering on them increased spectacularly and then flared as the runes disappeared. The main torrent of blood, however, fell into the channels that were created for it and, unlike the others, they did not disappear. Instead, it was more like they burned into the ground even as the dragon bodies were consumed by emerald fire. The planet for a moment seemed to hum.

The Ritual of Awakening was complete.

The Ritual of Awakening was an old druidic style healing rite in a more modern form.

It was originally designed to use the lifeforce and magic of highly magical creatures to repair and recharge magic in areas where either the flow of magic was damaged or ley lines did not reach.

It did this by imposing an artificial ley line network that would connect the damaged portion with the more natural network and as well as hopefully coax the magic that was in everything out and join everything into a unified whole once more.

Harry had to wonder how much of Voldemort's magical invention was really just him repurposing old rituals to suit his needs as the only reason Harry knew about it was because snake face had turned to the ritual, at one point, to try and increase his power.

He had tried to absorb the energy instead of using it to heal a magically dead area.

Thankfully he had not succeeded and had given up on the Ritual as a lost cause. Harry nearly used the Ritual as it was originally intended (though to suit his needs he might need to use it more often than would be practical in normal circumstances).

Now Cadi, a place that had little magic to begin with, had a small ripple of Magic working across the planet leaving six magical grooves that would (if left to do so naturally) after a few thousand years stretch and form a natural ley line network.

At this present second (where Harry stood and for a few hundred feet either side) magic thrummed, slowly waking Cadi to one of the fundamental forces of the universe, even as the next stage was revealed by the construction droids with Harry beginning to dig a 70 foot shaft directly down in the middle of the circle.

Only after that was complete did they lower the Geological Forge inside with wires and cables that came up the shaft and connected with a computer at ground level.

The reason that Harry did this, oddly enough, was rooted in the history of the Star Forge.

As the Geological Forge (or just Forge) was based at least partially on its design he was banking that it would have a similar effect to the planet as the Star Forge had on Abo (the star of the Lehon System) as it had somehow, in a way unknown to its creators, rejuvenated and restored the energy of the Sun that it took to function.

That this effectively made the star immortal intrigued Harry.

He hoped (and the newly archive free Hermione agreed) that using the Forge where the six new ley lines were joined would speed up the awakening and the saturation of magic in Cadi. This would, in turn, provide an ever-increasing energy source to grow and also to build more things of use to him as power had always been the problem.

To further enrich the magic (and to provide a bit of home) he also fully intended to clone (with careful genetic tampering to allow multiple different derivatives from each sample and thereby limit the dangers of inbreeding) both dragons and phoenixes from the Death Eaters wands as well as unicorns from Neville's father's wand.

He also intended, to help create a thriving ecosystem by using the samples taken from Dantooine to clone, most notably, the Kath Hound and the Iraz.

7 months later

After seven months as a glorified magical butcher and with more than one hundred and fifty dragons quickly grown and then slaughtered Harry could not only actively feel the magic in Cadi but was also now finally free to look around and take in his work (although it would take some time for the magic that had sunk deep into the earth to settle and to naturally begin to seep into the ecosystem fully Harry himself could do no more for it).

Harry smiled as he walked around his new home.

It was built on top of the Forge's pit and held, in a hidden part of his basement, was a fully functioning computer tailor-made to interface with it. As this was not a temporary home but rather where Harry would most likely be staying for the foreseeable future as well as the site of Potter Industries 'mining' Harry had tried to create something that was simple but would last.

The Potter home was a three-story (not including the basement) spacious building with five double bedrooms on the second floor. On the first floor was a pool, a gym, what would pass for a library, a secure connection to the Holonet with a holographic image caster for subspace communications and a hidden armoury.

The armoury contained his bounty hunting and assassination equipment which included his mask, darts, a collection of weapons, mines and grenades.

Finally on the ground floor was a tasteful (if very large) living room with another connection to the Holonet, a fully stocked kitchen that would make a House Elf jealous and an opulent bathroom.

That's not to say that he stopped there as now the Forge was getting power and also larger (now around the size of a small boulder) it could now do more than one thing at a time and he had used that multitasking ability to it's fullest extent.

He had carved a warren of tunnels and caverns out of the rock beneath his house with the largest letting out into the Gorge about halfway down. He had even diverted a large river, with the help of his droids, to flow over the Gorge making a beautiful waterfall that was both a very lovely sight to wake up to and an effective way to hide his impromptu Hangar.

He had even taken the precaution of creating mining shafts and processing plants that did very little except look good and re-smelt a small piece of Phrik over and over again.

He had however taken to heart the idea of diversity in that although he could (and did) make a lot of Phirk thanks to the Forge, one of the main reasons it was valuable was its rarity and he did not wish to devalue the market.

So apart from small amounts of the rare metal, Potter Industries had also moved into selling rare and precious gems in small amounts (as he could not really explain where he found them) as well as basic foodstuffs.

His best idea, however, was droids. Potter Industries was the newest contender in the droid market and like with the Phrik Harry had a small factory producing a few with the Forge making the majority.

It was making a lot.

Not only could he sell them cheaper than his competitors but they were also more easily adapted than standard models which provided a versatility most other basic models of droids lacked.

This was evident not only in the inexpensiveness of the replacement parts but also in a unique feature offered by Potter Industries. That feature being premade modular upgrade packs and this meant that although every droid was loosely based on the 'GE' protocol droid chassis they were sold with a choice of modular packs to get the average buyer started.

With these packs, the droids could go from personal assistant to cook, to pilot, to a waiter or pretty much anything else that you could think of (at least in theory).Military upgrade packs were not sold and Potter Industries stayed away from that side of the market with the closest that they came being a bodyguard upgrade.

That did not mean he didn't produce them however as he had (officially) around 1,000 armed droids protecting his mining interests and he did not _officially_ produce any ships at all, nor did he _officially_ produce experimental holo-droids that could impersonate him and provide a handy alibi when needed.

In short, Harry was beginning to make a fortune and Potter Industries was either being courted over subspace or loudly derided as the newest evil to appear in the Galaxy.

He still kept working as a Bounty Hunter and Assassin though obviously not particularly for the money but rather diversity and to maintain a reputation that would discourage both the curious and the Treasure Hunters.

It was also more to avoid the dangerous temptation of locking himself away to just search for his home, after all, with that amount of isolation madness was a real possibility.

Aside from that if somehow Potter Industries were to survive he needed regular information and contacts throughout the Galaxy. Very few had better contacts than Bounty Hunters or Assassins as, for them, information was the difference between life and death.

It was the main reason he had stayed on Nar Shaddaa as long as he had and he had gotten very good at acquiring it.

As Harry sat in his tasteful living room relaxing on his sofa and once again leafing through the ritual book Luna had left him one of the eighty phoenixes of Cadi flared in front of him.

It had a small Holo-communicator clutched in its talons and was obviously annoyed by its constant beeping. Without so much as a thrill of acknowledgement and, before Harry could say a single thing, it dropped the communicator on his lap.

It disappeared in another flash with a hard glare at the device even as Harry turned it on.

A cloaked figure shimmered into existence shrouded in blue light.

"What can I do for you?" Harry asked

"Why can't I see a picture?" The figure abruptly asked

"That would be my signal scrambler. I can't have you seeing my face now can I?" came the sardonic reply. "Now what can I do for you?"

"First I would like to say that I will pay 70,000 credits for this job alone". the figure said quickly.

"Must be some job. Do you want me to kill the King of Naboo or something?" Harry said slightly incredulous.

"No" snapped his prospective client "I want you to kill a Jedi and am transmitting the details now". After a moment the computer on Harry's left wrist beeped an acknowledgement "Will that be a problem?"

"I'll get my things. Send my payment to the usual account...half upfront" was his only reply as the line went dead.

Far away, across half the Galaxy, the hooded figure smiled.

His plan was coming together nicely.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Samples, Assassination and Future Force Training

794 BBY

2,859 ATC

Brentaal/Coruscant

Jedi Master Kylarn Sekel was very tired, though he did not allow such a thing to show on his face, instead he projected an image of great calm while allowing the peaceful nature of the Light Side to wash over him.

Like an increasing number of Padawan's these days Kylarn had been raised by the Jedi from a very young age but he was also a Sephi and that race, apart from having white or strikingly coloured skin (he was blue) and long pointed ears, were well known as gifted orators and diplomats.

It was no surprise then when he decided at the tender age of twenty (still then almost a child for his species) to take the Consular path and he had quickly become one of the more famous members of the notoriously even-tempered race.

He had spent almost the last two hundred years with that implacable calm as a shield against the random whims of the Galaxy.

He had eschewed any and all Council positions and instead had lent himself to the life of a scholar, studying the Force and all its history, until an occasional wanderlust would take hold of him.

Then he would travel the Galaxy, mostly on the Outer Rim, helping where he could and never staying long until that need to see and to explore was finally spent.

Going to Brentaal had not been one of those times instead, he had been whisked away from his studies by a request of the Council. That was not however why this mission was testing his patience and calm.

It began as most things do, with a small thing, a petty dispute between the Trading Houses of Keeto and Samen.

These two industrial giants were at each other's throats threatening a multitude of ills (from sanctions to murder) and each demanding that the vaunted Republic recognise the other as a lawbreaker and all-around scoundrel.

No one could say for certain now what had started the dispute, though of course, each blamed the other, and each loudly proclaimed their own personal innocence.

Ordinarily, this would not necessitate the sending of a Jedi, any Jedi, let alone a Jedi Master but given the threat to Brentaal's trade and its unique position in the Republic he was sent and very quickly.

The Republic could not afford for the sanctity and sovereignty of Brentaal trade to be threatened. Since the system was at the intersection of two major trade routes for the Republic and the Senator for the system had requested aid the Council had felt obliged to send both him and his padawan.

All this had led to the kind Jedi being a mediator to two squabbling trading houses and sitting on a cramped chair, with his elbows on a huge table, in the middle of a very large veranda on a neutral third parties voluptuous estate.

"Are you enjoying the Husk Estate Master?" came the voice of Varlya Tarvam his impetuous Echani padawan. Her smooth face may have been perfectly controlled but he could feel her mirth at his predicament through the Master-Padawan bond.

"I'd much prefer my books" he mock scowled at his ten-year-old padawan "As I am sure you are aware".

"Of course I am Master it's just so much fun to see you, Mr unrufflable ruffled for once" she responded.

"Appalling grammar aside I am glad I amuse you" came the arch reply.

"What were you researching Master that had you so absorbed? The intricate nature of Force Bonds? The Crystalline structure of the famous glass mountains?" He could tell from her facial expression that this was something that she would never want to do.

She was an Echani, he mused, and though they were sometimes great poets, diplomats and philosophers, battle stirred their blood in a very unique way. A way that libraries, dusty books and debate never would. She would make an excellent Guardian one day, he was sure, but he doubted she would ever gain the passion for research that he had developed.

Snapping out of his tangent he replied

"I was researching the history of the Old Sith wars and looking for evidence of undiscovered artefacts from that time period". he answered somewhat primly "I can't imagine why they would want us here rather than another team".

"So it wasn't you Master who solved the dispute among the Bespin gas miners? It also couldn't have been you who negotiated the 'minor' disagreement between the two Princes of Corellia's Royal house and stopped them from killing each other in a duel then?"

"They were good boys" he muttered defensively. "Just a tad high strung".

"My point Master... is that if you didn't want your research interrupted by diplomatic missions then you shouldn't have become so good at them, you are a victim of your own success".

"I suppose you are right my ever-wise padawan".

"Of course I'm right Master" she joked " I always am".

"Alright then my dear student". He responded while raising one eyebrow "How would you solve the problems in these negotiations?"

"Threaten them with my lightsaber" Varlya half queried and half hoped. His amused chuckle told the girl that, at the very least, she had lightened his mood.

Good, she thought, he was too stuffy anyway.

"And then" Kylarn began "we would have to come back in three months as they believed that they were safe from your wrath". He pointedly looked his small framed padawan up and down "Assuming it worked in the first place that is…"

He was about to continue when, from a distance, he began to see other people arriving. "It seems that our negotiations are about to begin again". His lips quirked and he winked "so try not to bash anyone over the head with your lightsaber please" his padawan only giggled in reply.

"Yes Master" she said when he arched an eyebrow.

"Ahh… the honourable Jedi!" spoke a new loud and falsely jovial voice "how are you?" It also belonged to the unofficial leader of the group.

"We are well Mister Husk" Kylarn responded.

"Please call me Rinsk" he interrupted insincerely.

But then, Kylarn thought before he could stop himself, everything about the man was insincere...he oozed falsehood.

"And Misters Keeto and Samen" the Jedi said, turning to them to cover his distaste, eying them critically "are you both well and ready to begin?"

Both men simply nodded with utmost gravitas, clearly also annoyed by Husks over enthusiastic and false greeting. To them, this was a business deal that had to be made, neither much liked the deal or each other but without a deal, there would be a trade war which meant deaths and (Force forbid) a monumental loss of profit.

So, he concluded in his mind, while there hadn't been any deaths (that he knew of) the threat was strong enough against their businesses that these two 'Captains of Industry' could lose everything.

With practised eyes, the researcher turned diplomat sized up his over gracious host Rinsk Husk. Here was another, more dangerous, player in the game that was Brentaals complex system of inbreeding, one-upmanship, fragile alliances and backstabbing that passed for their system of business and politics.

A part of the game, of course, was theatrics and it was at this that Rinsk Husk seemed to excel.

After all, Kylarn mused, I have negotiated almost every treaty imaginable but I have never negotiated in someone's back garden. Especially as said back garden is part of a palatial estate that was also, for the duration of the negotiations, open to the public.

"Is everyone happy with their seating arrangements?" Came the smooth voice of Husk and, when he received no response, he continued "Good. Now in the interests of fairness and transparency, the garden is to be open to the public to within 100 feet". He smiled brightly and falsely "What better way to show our good intentions for all to see?"

Husk, of course, didn't point out that the three armed guards that each man had brought with them hardly fostered unity. He was too much a politician for the truth to get in the way of his own narrative.

Kylarn saw his padawan roll her eyes and he could almost feel her snort down the bond that they shared.

Privately he agreed considering that all Husk wanted to do, as far as he could see, was promote and sell the idea of Husk. In this case, he was selling the idea of Husk man of the people with the added bonus being that both men (and their mercantile houses) who were part of the negotiations would be beholden to him for providing the neutral ground.

"So gentlemen" Kylarn began "I believe when we last left off we were discussing the land issue on your northern mountain range".

Keeto's face contorted in rage

"We cannot address _that_ until we address Samens fraudulent claims on our Durasteel Consortium".

A lesser man would have sighed. So, he thought, the squabbles begin again.

-LAFA-

It had been _hours_ , thought Varlya Tarvam, and Jedi or not I am not built for this. I may not have been raised one but I was born an Echani and battle sings in my blood.

All this talking seemed absolutely redundant to her and, as far as she was concerned, they should have just put up or shut up.

They should just go into the arena and spar until one submits with both their motives clear in battle, she thought, with all the wisdom of her ten years.

As a padawan, she did find it difficult to connect to the Force fully in her everyday life and she had never regretted that more than she did now.

She realised that her Master was only keeping his calm around the negotiation table by sinking lightly into the Force and allowing the Light Side to wash over him.

She couldn't do that yet, her control simply wasn't that good, she was either fully a part of the Force (and trying to let it guide her actions) or she wasn't. That didn't mean that she got nothing, twinges maybe or ripples of the Force sometimes, but she couldn't be fully in the Force yet without losing track of the moment.

Her Master was helping her with truly understanding how to do that as well as teaching her patience (apparently the two were related).

She stifled another sigh as she tried to ignore yet another petty squabble and focus instead on the Jedi code or at least the newer form that her Master prefered.

There is no emotion, there is peace.

She could use some of that peace right now, she thought, as she longed for the peace of the Jedi Temple and she wished she could hear the soft patter of the one thousand fountains but, instead, she was here.

These three people were supposed to be (between them) the majority of Brentaals answer to the giant conglomerate Industrial Automaton but instead, they were just squabbling amongst themselves and ruining her attempt at calm.

Suddenly, distracting her, there was the tiniest of whispered warnings in the Force but, before she could even reach for her lightsaber, she felt something pierce her neck having time only to gasp before her world exploded in pain and she collapsed.

Jedi Master Kylarn Sekel had just about hammered out an agreement, in principle, to solve all of the squabbling and allow the business of trading to restart without causing bloodshed.

Husk looked particularly pleased.

Master Sekel had also miraculously avoided a migraine or going with his padawans option of using his lightsaber to literally knock sense into them.

That was when he felt the warning from the Force slightly earlier than his padawan. He had time to hold up his oft hand and use his main hand to ignite his emerald blade with the characteristic snap-hiss of a lightsaber.

He grimaced even as he felt the first waves of agony coming from the Master-Padawan bond.

He could only watch in silent horror as the armed guards fell to hidden blasters in the walls. Master Sekel, if given a moment, would probably say that they were somewhat similar to a more lethal version of a training remote hidden in the walls.

He managed somehow to bat a few bolts away and Force Pushed the table on its side to form a barrier even as the three business leaders scrambled behind it, getting slightly injured as they went.

"Did you do this?" Asked Sekel in pain and moving slightly drunkenly from it.

"Hell no. I wouldn't be this crass" replied Husk scornfully even as both of the other men nodded gasping and bleeding.

Through the agony, Kylarn thought about moving to his padawan but the Niman form though useful wasn't exactly designed for this (at least unless truly mastered) and he had obviously never practised it while his padawan was incapacitated like this.

Someone had planned this, he knew it, but this couldn't be all it was. After all, eventually he would be able to get out of this and report everything to the Jedi Council and, through them, to the Republic Senate. He also assumed that this was something that whoever planned this could not allow.

In the distance he could hear the general public that was invited to watch the making of peace, courtesy of Husk, running away screaming in terror and it was in those sounds of terror that phase two of the plan began.

Six people in House Husk livery armed with vibroknives and blasters appeared in the midst of the fleeing crowd. They ran straight for them firing their weapons as they went.

The Jedi Master sank as deeply into the Force as his pained condition would allow still seeking some way, against the odds, to save his padawan and the people that he was charged to protect.

With a new warning from the Force helping him he managed to reflect two blaster bolts back at the hidden remotes in the wall damaging or destroying two leaving, by his count, three left.

He had no time to do more than block the remaining blaster bolts from his charges with his body as the six men drew closer.

As the men advanced he had to devote more and more energy to blocking their ever increasingly accurate shots. He had also taken four blaster hits in total, one to the shoulder, one glancing his wrist leaving a horrible burn, one to his leg and the last to his foot.

He was never more grateful, at that moment, for the fact that his padawan had gotten bored of the negotiations and had stepped outside for some 'fresh air' before this all began as it meant that she was out of the line of fire.

She was in a great deal of pain, that he could sense through their bond, but she was alive and not currently a target for these remotes and mercenaries at least.

Still, even though the blaster fire was increasing in frequency, even though he was injured and even though his padawan's agony was resonating through their bond like a blunt knife to the back of his skull, there was a reason that Jedi were feared by the underworld. That was also why he was still standing strong, for now.

He wanted to end this fight quickly but his favourite manoeuvre (the draw closer) couldn't be used because in his weakened state he would be unable to guarantee the safety of his charges.

He grimaced and reflected one last shot away before the six mercenaries were upon him and the others.

He managed to engage four of the six and with a smooth swipe he decapitated the first but he couldn't stop two slipping past. He didn't even have a spare moment to Force Push them out of the way.

Unfortunately, even a Jedi was not perfect and he was unable to help as his three charges were felled by the hungry vibroknives of the two mercenaries as they methodically went about their grisly work.

The sadness of death washed over him as he felt their life forces fade from his senses.

With new resolve then and no longer needing to concern himself with the safety of his charges he was able to act without restraint and find his ailing padawan.

The first mercenary he slashed deeply in the chest, the smell of the sizzling burn of his cauterizing lightsaber strong in his nostrils, before violently Force Pushing him into a nearby wall crushing the man's skull. He then proceeded to duck a wild slash from the second while manoeuvring himself behind the third to use the assailant as a human shield against the shots still coming from the globes half concealed in the east wall.

That was when things started to go even more wrong.

The blaster bolts from the wall almost tripled in speed coming so fast that it was all he could do to simply stand and block the blaster bolts coming at him so fast that they were almost a red line to the wearied Jedi. His lightsaber became a flashing web of green light.

Through all the pain from his wounds and his padawan's agony, he managed to deflect the blaster bolts that were coming thick and fast away from him. He managed at that moment to finally, somehow, truly connect with the Force completely.

His energy was running out though, with every draw on the Force being more difficult than the last.

Suddenly the west wall opened fire with another five of the hidden blasters which blared their lethal shots at him. The Jedi Master found himself in a deadly crossfire. He lacked the Force strength to lift the table against the blasts but, on the other hand, his enemies were defenceless compared to him.

Ironic, he thought, to be cut down by the very weapons that were meant to help you.

He decided that retreat was the better part of valour and so he moved, lightsaber in constant weary motion, towards his padawan and out of the line of fire.

He managed to destroy another droid with a deflected blaster bolt wishing that he had studied more practical Force Powers. What I wouldn't give right now, he thought, to be able to use the destroy droid power.

Finally, he was out of the line of fire and could think slightly more clearly even as his active connection to the Force slipped away due to his utter exhaustion. He then shut his lightsaber off and moved wearily, and almost drunkenly, towards Varlya Tarvam.

It was the last mistake he ever made as another dart struck him in almost the same place as it had his padawan.

This one, however, was not a combined pain and paralysis dart.

It was instead tipped with Basilisk venom. Instantly it began to eat into his flesh and attack him with a ferocity that he had no resistance to and no chance of stopping in his weakened state. His legs felt like water and his lightsaber fell from nerveless fingers.

With a soft cry Kylern Sekel, the famed diplomat and Jedi Master died.

Harry moved in from a distance carefully watching the downed Jedi Master thoroughly impressed.

He had honestly thought that he wouldn't have needed that much preparation or hardware but, in hindsight, he was glad that he had been extra cautious. Though now that he was closer to the Jedi Master the screams from his padawan were quite distracting.

"Stupefy" he whispered and a flash launched from his ring stunning the poor girl.

He then bent down and recovered the dart from her neck allowing a trickle of magic to pass from his fingertips to the dart itself cancelling a set of time delay runes.

The other minuscule runes on the dart lit up as they started to do their work already turning it to ash. The light wind that was blowing across his hand was already taking the remains of the dart away even as he looked down at the body of the Jedi Master.

He picked up Sekel's lightsaber and placed it on his belt.

"Depulso" and with that, the Jedi's body shot back into the three-sided veranda like a champagne cork shot from a bottle.

Even as that was happening Harry picked up the ten-year-old Padawan and put her on his shoulder heading for his ship, his job done, even as he casually threw an incendiary grenade over his shoulder setting the building alight.

-LAFA-

Sometime later Padawan Varlya Tarvam woke with a scream.

The first thing she felt was the echoes of indescribable pain, followed by a wave of inescapable loss and a feeling of deep sorrow that seemed to almost consume her. For a moment her groggy brain couldn't understand why.

Then, with one slow blink, it all came rushing back.

The boredom of the negotiations and then casually walking outside, the pinch in her neck followed by agony and then, at some point in that timeless hell, a sense of indescribable loss.

She knew what that meant.

Her Master was dead.

She felt tears form behind her eyes. For two years his comforting presence and soft voice had been a cornerstone of her existence.

Like most, but not all, Jedi she was raised by the Temple and therefore was a de facto orphan.

Though her Master had not exactly been a parent to her (he had simply been too oddly coloured for the white-haired and blue-eyed Echani for that analogy to work) he had been a permanent comforting and patient presence in her life, sort of like a favourite uncle, and she would miss that.

More than that though, she had been given by her family to the Jedi Order and yet he was the first person to specifically choose her and she remembered the feeling as he had done so, she had felt so special, so wanted and now he was dead and she wasn't.

All she wanted to do right now was go home to the Jedi Temple, the only home she knew, where things might make some sort of sense.

She sat up in the bed that she was laying on at the sound of metallic feet and suddenly felt a spike of fear.

At first glance, she was glad to note that the droid standing before her didn't seem to be a combat or torture droid but rather something that looked like a modified GE series droid.

"Greetings I am P-084D your pilot. My Master sent me to see if you needed anything" said the matte black droid.

"Where am I?" She asked in a small voice

"You are onboard the _Homeward Bound_ , a Dynamic Class Freighter".

"4D where are we going and who is your Master?" she pressed.

"We are on route to Coruscant and my Master is Harry James Potter" came the simple reply.

"And who is Harry James Potter?" She said with a suspicious note in her voice, not that she knew anything about him one way or the other, but as she had been harshly reminded recently the Galaxy was not kind.

"That would be me" said a new strong but very human and masculine voice. "Thank you 4D you may go"

At first glance Harry Potter was old, in his early twenties she guessed, and he dressed simply and seemed to mean her no harm so she relaxed a little.

Plus he was kind of cute came the thought out of nowhere.

She banished that thought, highly embarrassed, to the back of her mind thankful for the training that stopped a mortified blush from staining her cheeks.

"Thank you, Master" responded the droid already heading back to the cockpit.

"You saved me?" she paused "Why?"

"You are a child" came the measured response, as if that fact alone, explained everything.

"I am a Jedi Padawan" came her indignant response

"Really?" Came the sarcastic response "The robes never would have given it away and I didn't know that childhood and Jedi business were mutually exclusive".

"Don't be so mean" was her slightly shrill response. Guilt flashed across his features for a split second and his face softened.

"I'm sorry. Honestly, I've found that I'm not the greatest people person and can only apologise for my grumpiness". He smiled winningly "It happens when you get old".

She wanted to smile and she nearly did but she had been through too much recently for it to actually happen. She did appreciate the effort though, she really did, even as he continued. "I have told the Jedi that we are on our way. You were asleep quite some time but we will be there soon".

"Thank you Sir" She whispered.

"Please, little one, just call me Harry" He rose and said "I have to go check that 4D hasn't destroyed my ship" and with that, he moved off but just as he reached the doorway she called out her reply.

"Thank you Harry" now she did smile, though in a strained fashion, because at least she was going home and was going to be in the Temple surrounded by other Jedi. It was something she longed for.

-LAFA-

Several weeks after reporting to the Jedi Council on her return Varlya was sitting on a bench by the Great Tree trying to come to terms with all that had happened to her on Brentaal.

The other Jedi were worried about her of course, that could be seen in every soft look or almost asked question. The problem was, of course, that any Jedi who had gone through what she had was much older and therefore found it hard to relate to her.

She, in turn, found it almost impossible to relate to her own peers (chosen by a Master or not) because although they could be sympathetic they couldn't understand, not really. Like all Jedi, she still had the comforting nature of the Light Side of the Force but for the first time, deep in her heart, she was wondering if that was really enough.

That orange world was a cesspit, she thought cynically, idly watching the Great Tree sway gently in the breeze.

Yes sometimes it still haunted her dreams, she thought with a hint of fear, turning them into bloodsoaked nightmares...The number of times she had thought of how her former Master must have died…

"Hello there padawan" She was startled by the voice of the newcomer and she turned to glance at the two men that had managed to approach her while she was lost in her dark thoughts.

The first (and the one who spoke) had a mouth that always seemed to smile, bright blue eyes that reflected a seemly constant joy in everything that he did.

This was Knight Lanham.

The Lanham family where a group of humans that had consistently produced Jedi very strong in the Force for as long as anyone could remember, some said as long as there had been a Republic.

With the fact that the family was not only exceptionally large (no one had ever really done a complete tally) but spread over most of the Core Worlds it seemed that the tradition would not be ending anytime soon.

He was also her new Master.

"I understand that you have been having difficulty with what happened" and he held up his palm before she could speak. "I also know that you need to talk to someone and, as we haven't had time yet to truly understand one another, that is why my friend is here".

At that, she flushed realising belatedly that she had ignored the person who stood next to her new Master.

"Harry" she said softly and she jumped up and ran into him, only to then hug him to within an inch of his life.

Neither Jedi noticed the flash of pain mingled with guilt that flashed in his eyes as, one moment it was there and the next it had disappeared, buried behind an iron wall of purpose.

In the past few weeks, since she had met him, he had been a quiet and unobtrusive, but constant, presence on their journey to Coruscant.

He had left her alone when she needed it, made her laugh when he could, told her stories of his travels and when she had started having the nightmares about her former Master he had simply held her as she cried making soft comforting noises as he did so. "What are you doing here?"

She hadn't seen him in person since the day he dropped her off at the Temple. It wasn't that he didn't care (he'd sent her transmissions often) but he was head of Potter Industries and she was a Jedi Padawan sworn to both guard against the Sith and uphold the Republic. A Republic that he wasn't even technically part of.

They lived very different lives.

"I'm just dropping off a new experimental fencing droid for your brethren to try". He paused and then cheekily added "Maybe this will get them to like me eh?"

His smile took the sting out of his words but, she reflected, it was true as though both she and Knight Lanham had warmed to him the Council had not done so.

Maybe it was the fact that he was the head of a powerful company at his very young age, maybe that it was that he was Force-sensitive and not a Jedi, maybe it was the general distrust of Bounty Hunters (a quick background check had shown that he once was one and, though not officially active, his license was current and he was in good standing with the Guild), maybe it was that as a member of a non-Republic world and company they had less say in what he could or could not do.

Perhaps it was even simpler that though they might be thinking that she was getting too attached to the green-eyed businessman.

They are probably right in that at least but, she ruefully thought, at this moment in time I just don't care.

"If handing over the Lightsabers that you managed to acquire from the Dantooine enclave to the Head Librarian didn't do it I don't know what will". The Librarian had been ecstatic to get the lightsabers of such famous Jedi but was still frosty to the non-Jedi outsider.

"I hear you have been having trouble adjusting since what happened on Brentaal".

She blanched and looked wildly around for her new Master, thankfully, he had silently withdrawn while she had been absorbed in greeting Harry. "Do you want to talk about it?" She shook her head firmly and with all the finality that a ten-year-old could muster.

He sighed and continued "Did you know that I was an orphan?".

"No" she said.

"Well let me tell you…" He began.

Over the next three hours Harry told her a heavily edited version of the first ten years of his life and soon, without realising it and before she really understood what was happening, she began to talk.

It was slow at first but eventually, all her fears and anxieties came pouring out and she finally started down the long road of putting them to rest with the help of her new friend.

Later that evening Harry admitted to himself that he felt like absolute shit.

On the one hand, he had enjoyed the friendship that he was building with Varlya and the sense of kinship that he felt with her could not be denied.

If he truly was just Harry Potter of Potter Industries a philanthropist (and all round good guy) that would have been fantastic and despite the Jedi Council's concern he would have done everything he could to help his friend.

He wasn't though and that was why he felt like shit.

He was also the man that had, if not cruelly, coldly orchestrated the death of her friend and first Jedi Master. He was the man who had put her in danger for his own ends and every time she thanked him for saving her it was like a dagger in the heart. Every moment of calm companionship, every second of friendship was built on a lie.

Despite all his feelings, all his mixed emotions, it still led him to stand a few meters away from the Processional Way waiting for a small cockroach shaped droid.

He wasn't the nice guy in this scenario, he knew, as everything he did in the last few weeks had at least two purposes.

Its funny, he thought, how the choices you make change who you become.

Inside the training droid prototype (made of Phrik enriched plastic) was a hidden compartment for his roach droid. He had insisted that he pass the artefacts that he had brought from Dantooine over to the Head Librarian in person.

What people sometimes forgot about the Jedi Temple was that it was not just a place where Jedi lived and meditated on the nature of the Force it was also a museum. They regularly allowed tours in to see the perfectly preserved artefacts and relics of both the Republic's and the Jedi's history (though of course not functioning weapons or Holocrons).

While all eyes (and many different senses) were focused on him he had done nothing suspicious instead seemly losing himself in the tranquillity, beautiful artwork and architecture that was the Jedi Temple.

His training droid, however, was a different story.

Once it found a camera blindspot a series of algorithms had come together to make it release it's cockroach-like passenger, wipe its memory of both the algorithms themselves, the last thirty seconds and continue on to the sparring rooms.

This was who Harry Potter had become.

He was many things and much removed from the boy he once was and he had no illusions about that. The one single thing that would never change about him, he firmly resolved, was that he would always be the man who would survive and do anything to find his way home.

His cockroach droid appeared out of the darkness chirping its success. Harry smiled as it had the sample.

He walked back to his waiting shuttle with the cockroach droid firmly in tow.

He now had a perfectly preserved sample of Revan's D.N.A. taken before his fall.

In the Works, less than thirty minutes later, he was standing (though of course masked) face to face with his new client.

"Your job was completed. The Republic believes Husk tried to kill two of his rivals while all three trading houses blame each other for the inevitable sanctions that will result due to the death of the Jedi Master. Industrial Automaton prospers and will continue to do so". His voice turned cold "Our business is concluded".

"On the contrary" disagreed the cloaked figure in front of him "I believe that our business has just begun".

The man threw back his hood revealing a somewhat average face. It was the kind that could have been from just about anywhere from Coruscant to Bespin or Corellia to Brentaal. Dark brown eyes greeted his gaze along with a weak chin and a cruel mouth. "My name is Siverere Mannesh and I know how to help you get what you want".

"Oh yeah" came the glib response "What do I want?"

"Power" came the swift response "for what purpose I do not, at this moment, care. I know the Jedi would not train you and I know there are ways to augment even your meagre power to heights that they would not even dare dream of".

His face may have been non-descript but his voice had an odd hypnotic edge. "If you become my acolyte you can have all of that and, in the fullness of time, more".

"Really" Harry said, suspicion evident in his tone "and what do you get out of it?"

"Immediately? A servant who can travel where I can not and do things that I can not risk doing myself. In the long term, I will find out if you're worthy of being my Apprentice".

Harry did not like the tone of this conversation and so he asked

"What if I refuse?" In response a ruby red lightsaber flashed into existence in Mannesh's hand.

"You die now". He smiled cruelly "Make your choice. Power or death?".

"Alright Mannesh you have a deal" Harry responded after a moment. Training, after all, was training.

"My true name is Darth Corrious Dark Lord of the Sith. It is a title that you might one day have if you prove yourself worthy".

"Where do we start" Harry asked and then after a pause added "Master?"

"With the code" came the curt response "Repeat after me...Peace is a lie".

For the next four and a half years Harry Potter would learn the ways of the Sith from Darth Corrious and be his servant doing his will while his Master primarily stayed on Ossyk the first moon of Brentaal.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: The Price and Gift of The Sith

 _A/N At this moment I'm trying to make a grey harry fic. I cannot say there won't be more 'dark' chapters..but as I've only just finished handwriting chapter 8 I can't be sure. A warning that most of the why he does these things, most of his motivations, won't resolve till next chapter or the chapter after._

 _I say this because I got a stupid review about how I'm making Harry too dark and am an awful writer...my response to her was simple as this reviewer had previously verbally attacked me for things later resolved (not even asking if they would be resolved) only to then demand I write more.. so I will repeat a form of my reply here for impatient insulting reviewers such as her (All cool people should ignore the next bit especially as constructive criticism helps me and...well...praise keeps the motor running!)._

 _If you cannot wait for a plot to be resolved don't blame me just go read something else as I have no patience for you._

794BBY - 789 BBY

2,859 ATC - 2,864 BBY

Ossyk/ Wider Galaxy

First Year

Harry sat in a meditative pose, eyes closed, breathing deeply. Around him, in seemingly almost haphazard patterns, were sith runes. The runes were glowing balefully with the depth of dark side power that almost thrummed through them like the heartbeat of some wild caged beast.

This was good, Harry thought, the Ritual was going exactly to plan.

Harry was meditating, as he had been for the last two days, on the nature of hatred and passion and on desire and power. While he was doing this he had also been constantly chanting in Sithese while his irises glowed a vivid yellow. His face was twisted in an almost permanent snarl, the air both shimmered and was incredibly hot as if it was part of an unforgiving desert.

The area in which he was chanting was so saturated in the dark side of the Force the shadows themselves seemed to hunger with an insatiable need and whisper insanities to weed out the weak minded. This place was a vergence in the dark side and was an important memorial, of sorts, to his master's order.

The reason that this deserted cave on Ossyk was important was that this was the place where Darth Corrious defeated his own master and usurped the title of Dark Lord Of The Sith. The anger and fear involved in that conflict had soaked into the ground and saturated the stones that made up the cave itself. The primal roar of victory that had left his masters mouth at the point of victory seemed to echo around Harry as he continued to chant channeling the echos of countless men and women, they almost seemed to float before him like phantoms, all of his masters pain and passion and his master's masters all the way back to Darth bane himself.

This, he thought, would prove that he was worthy of instruction. This would allow him to prove to his master that he should become the apprentice and eventually gain all the power of a true Sith Lord. Rather than just a simple acolyte. That would hopefully gain him a true edge when he could return home and both enable him to defeat Voldemort and live in peace uncontrolled by anyone but himself afterward. All of his focus then was on the ritual and the small piece of engraved metal that was in front of him.

Suddenly and very harshly Harry stopped speaking and all of that hatred, anger, desperation, primal exaltation and most strongly fear coalesced into a dark mist that twisted and turned into a whirlwind with the funnels end sinking into the rough triangular metal. It was then slowly and surely dragged down into the amulet shrinking as it went leaving the cave suddenly empty.

His Amulet was complete.

A few minutes later Harry had attached the newly made amulet to a chain around his neck. Without trying Harry knew that it was a complete success, he could feel his connection with it thrum with power.

Using Sith Alchemy, he had taken all of the dark emotions from the cave, from the moment that his master had become Dark Lord and drained them fully into the amulet. He had even been able to add residual echoes of the Order of the Sith Lords previous conflicts to empower the amulet. In essence the amulet artificially repaired and reinforced his connection to the dark side and was also an test to see how well Harry could follow Corrious's instructions as the ritual had been refined by him.

There were many reasons why he had done it this way rather than simply wait for a new clone with Revan's D.N.A. to mature but there were only two of great importance. The first was that, unless forced by extreme circumstance, he would never share knowledge of the clones with anyone (least of all his new master) or the the knowledge of other things like the Holocron's still stashed away in his home. He would have to give knowledge of the first if he turned up in a brand new body with a full connection to the Force and probably the latter as well and both of these things would allow too much information about him to pass beyond his direct control.

The second reason was simply that he could not afford to turn away any learning at the moment. When he (hopefully) returned home he would still be the prime target of Voldemort and though snake face was a complete tosspot Harry would still be lacking an extreme amount of magical education and the only reply he had to that current deficit was knowledge of the Force.

After all, he mused, every little helps.

This amulet would not magically give him mastery over Force powers and he knew that due to the artificial nature of the amulet, as well as the capricious nature of the dark side, some powers would always be denied to him.

For the first time since waking in this body though, he felt the Force truly behind him, or at least the dark side, and he was going to revel in it for now learning as much as he could along the way.

Later that afternoon Siverere Mannesh visited his acolyte to check on his progress and see if he needed any 'encouragement' though, if one were to observe him carefully, you would almost be able to see the frustration wafting off him like heavy cloying smoke.

In all fairness, Harry thought, his frustration was completely understandable even if it was highly amusing that the reason his master was annoyed was due to Bane's grand plan.

Darth Corrious, Dark Lord of the Sith, was a very powerful individual, not only a killer, a superb orator and reasonably skilled at finance but also quite strong in the dark side of the Force. It hung around hm like a tempestuous thundercloud.

Due to the simple fact that Bane's plan of long revenge involved them staying in the shadows for now this powerful Sith, this Dark Lord, was stuck in a day job as one of the upper management in Industrial Automaton (oddly enough one of Potter Industries many rivals) and as such he was forced to answer to lesser beings and he hated it.

That hatred did make him unpredictable at times.

It also fed his power.

Anything could be borne for long periods of time if it increased your power.

Take the amulet that Harry had just finished crafting, this wasn't the work of moments but instead it was the work of several gruelling months. First he had been shown a Holocron (Sith of course) that his master had in the fortress like mansion. Then he had spent the next five weeks learning at the feet of the gatekeeper and his master had added a few final improvements. To speed up the learning process he had made full use of his occlumency abilities though Corrious had taught Harry several mental cantrips that both the Jedi and Sith used for learning at almost the same rate.

In combining the two his rate of retention and also his absorption rate of knowledge was prodigious to say the least.

In the first few days Harry had made the decision that if he was to learn effectively and, more importantly, quickly he would have to throw himself into his dark side lessons. So while he was learning the runes and chants necessary for the creation of his amulet he had suffered.

Willingly suffered.

He had ruminated on the Sith Code while being starved and beaten for days at a time.

He no longer slept but meditated instead, first for what his master called a wasteful six hours, now after more pain and hardship he finally meditated for just three to be fully rested.

He had taken the beatings from his master, the degradation and humiliation as well as copious amounts of Force Lightning. He had done this for the power that was offered and, as he was taught, he used the hatred, the pain and the anger to fuel his formerly lackluster powers. Despite the fact that his pupils were now almost always a burnt yellow it had worked with surprising ease.

The phoenix tears in his blood had managed to stave off the most debilitating of Harry's injuries. His master of course was intrigued about it and though Harry shared nothing with him he wouldn't have been surprised to find that his master had taken a sample of his blood somewhere along the way.

After he had finally learned enough runes and phrases for the ritual that he needed the gatekeeper had required him to find a place of dark power with which to forge the amulet.

That was when he learnt the truth of the Sith.

"Use where I murdered my former master" Darth Corrious had responded dismissively.

"You killed your master?" Harry gasped.

"No" He had responded "I _murdered_ him, in vicious combat yes but, if I could have done it I would have stabbed him while he slept". He glared at his acolyte "It is something I would expect any apprentice of mine to do when I was of no further use".

Harry remembered being disturbed at this at first but then he rationalised that he had killed many people for money or to further his own cause. This he decided, after a few days of contemplation, seemed little different.

All of which led him, new amulet around his neck, to his master despite Darth Corrious's temperamental mood.

"Master! I've done it" His joy was palatable. In contrast the Sith Lightning when it came was agonizingly painful.

Annoyingly, Harry thought, I'm the only one who can honestly say that Sith Lightning hurt more than the Cruciatus Curse.

"You simpleton" His master snarled "Do you think I am some Jedi idiot that would reward your every simple accomplishment?" The lightning doubled in intensity "You absolute fool!".

"You want my forgiveness? You need to earn it!".

Harry screamed and something reacted. Not even Harry would have been able to say if it was magic or the Force but a pulse left his body at that moment, knocking his master into a wall. Then he fell exhausted to the floor.

His master meanwhile had risen from the floor, completely unharmed, with a vicious smile on his face. "Now that was impressive". He paused "Now you are ready to truly learn and perhaps, one day, become my apprentice".

Darth Corrious scrutinised his acolyte for a long moment. It was almost like he was examining Harry's every single atom and judging his worth. In the end he seemed to pass "There are two more things that you must learn before you will be able to be of use to me. One is a technique called Force Clouding and will enable you to bury your Force presence in the background feel of the universe. The foolish Jedi will never realise there is a darksider in their midst".

"Master" said Harry rising from the floor and standing tall as his body was already recovering "How do they not already know? I've been here almost a year and I know that there has been at least one Jedi since I've started training that has been through the system".

"Because I have protected you" came the scornful reply.

Harry took the verbal jab without complaint, instead letting the anger fuel his power as he had been taught, though his yellow eyes did glow as he took a second to viciously glare at his 'Master'. He had caught himself, once or twice, imagining throwing Darth Corrious into a wall and it seemed to be becoming a much more common daydream lately.

"What is the second thing" then almost as an afterthought he spat "Master"

"I think it is time for you to make your very own lightsaber".

Harry's smile was nothing short of predatory.

Darth Corrious made Harry assemble the required pressure forge for his lightsaber crystal by hand and when Harry asked why, Corrious explained that to make a synthetic crystal was a very personal rite and so the more of the process that was done by him the easier it would be, in theory, to create his crystal.

After he had created the forge and assembled his saturated solution he started to grow his seed crystals.

For the first day he simply used the Force to gently layer his will into the solution to cause the seed crystals to begin to form. At this early stage he added no thoughts of himself or anything at all except for the simple request to grow. For nineteen hours he repeated and infused that command into the solution until the seed crystals had fully formed.

He then placed the small seed crystals, along with more saturated solution into the pressure forge and the true creation of his unique synthetic crystal began. To truly make the synthetic crystal not only suitable for a lightsaber but attuned to him (as it made a more powerful blade) Harry had to give the crystal more. He had to give the crystal himself, he had to give the blade his memories and emotions as that would not only connect him intimately to the blade but would also give the crystal its colour.

First he poured into it every moment of abuse that he had ever suffered at the hands of the Dursleys. He remembered the first true beatings at the age of three, the fear of it, the confusion and the pain. He followed that with the realisation of being completely alone as he recovered, of being unable to rely on anyone but himself.

Then came the names and the hatred that they inspired not just the obvious one of freak but also others like Dudley's favourite of shithead or Vernon's slightly more imaginative walking abortion. He topped that off with every bruise since, every beating and then the memories of the broken bones and several whippings that only his instinctual magic haphazardly healed.

Finally he added the idea of what he would one day do to the Dursleys, how he would return the so called kindness with some of his own. As instructed he allowed the darkest thoughts to surface and those ideas that were caged at the back of his mind were finally loosed.

He imagined ripping Dudley apart, piece by fat piece, until all that was left were his organs suspended by the Force with only his head and spinal cord attached. Then when he was truly aware not only of Harry's anger at him but the utter certainty of his own death Harry would revel in Dudley's hopelessness until he grew bored. Once that happened, like a macabre jenga tower, everything would fall.

Vernon he would Force choke, bringing him to the point of death and back again, day after day and month after month until all Vernon knew were moments of agonising life and the sweet darkness of oblivion. He would continue until his mind was shattered and all he was became simply a mewling bag of flesh. Finally he would rip out Vernon's tongue and make him choke on it until he died.

Petunia he would simply and slowly Force Lightning to death. He would only do that after she had watched what had happened to her beloved family, utterly unable to help them, and in sure knowledge that he was merely returning the 'love' that they had given him. Then and only then, with her world shattered around her, would he use his lightning and slowly increase the intensity until her very bones glowed with the strength of it and her brain cooked from the boiling of her blood.

The last thing that he fed the crystal was his gut wrenching need to go home, to go back to the only people who had shown him any real kindness. He also fed it his carnal desires for Luna, his dreams, his fantasies of her. He fed it his hunger, barely expressed, for every inch of her.

After three full days of pouring his memories into the forge he smiled in success because, right in front of him, was a perfectly shaped blood red crystal.

He took his new crystal to a workbench in the corner of the hot room where a focusing lens, emitter matrix, power cell and hilt lay ready to be assembled. Using the force he did just that and as each individual piece connected to the next the dark side thrummed in ever increasing waves.

Finally he examined his creation. It was almost the standard one handed lightsaber design with the notable exception that the hilt was slightly longer than average so that if he wished it would be slightly easier to use two handed without sacrificing its ability to function as a one handed weapon. The other changes that he made were to remove the power adjustor, place a hidden beacon call function in the hilt and make the hilt meld with the emitter shroud flowing like water. He also painted it completely black.

It was a beautiful weapon of death.

Second Year

The first half of his second year of training took on a repetitive monotony. In that he would practice his Clouding ability under his masters painful tutelage until he could hold it without even thinking even while under attack. Harry didn't like using Force Clouding even if he understood the necessity of it as, at first, it felt like trying to catch water with a fork while holding said fork only with your tongue.

In the mornings in the second half of the year Harry practiced his force powers and that was where his amulet was both a great help and a hindrance. He could only truly utilize the power of the amulet when he gave into his darker emotions. Although the amulet seemed to somehow keep stoking those emotions at first it was very difficult to not give into his rage and completely lose control of himself.

It did however allow him to access more of the dark side and therefore learn more force powers. He was able to use Force Lightning, for example, with exceptional ease as the emotional fuel was always close to the surface.

He was also able to construct a rudimentary Force Shield (also called Force Resistance and, if exceptionally advanced, Force Immunity) against Force attacks. It was only basic because the amulet channeled energies best used for destruction not preservation. His favourite power at this moment was Force Choke and every time his master sent him on an (infrequent) errand a growing part of him was itching to practice it. When people attacked him that itching turned to a hunger that grew over time. It was almost like a siren's song calling him, enticing him further in, the more he used it.

In the afternoons over the entirety of that year he studied lightsaber combat until he would collapse exhausted in the early hours of the morning only to start the cycle all over again. He studied form VII, also called Juyo, almost exclusively mainly due to the idea that if his defences against the Force were weaker than normal then it would be best to kill his enemies quickly before they could bring it to bear.

That coupled with the amulets tendency to stoke his rage to new heights and the combative and unpredictable nature of the aptly named Ferocity Form made him a very successful killing machine.

Then at the end of his second year came his masters nod.

Finally he would be free of this stifling training cycle and out from under the watchful eye of his master, he thought. He would keep up his lightsaber training and become a Juyo expert but, more than that, he vowed that he would not only prove himself to be the rightful apprentice but eventually destroy his 'Master' as well.

Third Year

The _Homeward Bound_ burst into orbit around the planet Galacos. The marine world was almost completely uninhabited save only one small single landmass just underneath its northern pole. This little world would be completely uninteresting if it wasn't for the almost completely forgotten secret academy that was built in the middle of the landmass.

As a basic history lesson Darth Corrious had taught Harry about the struggles between the Sith and the Jedi. Throughout the history of both orders each had tried, and failed, to destroy each other on numerous occasions. The Jedi had created contingencies, just in case they were ever truly threatened, by creating certain hidden academies and enclaves throughout the known (and as in this case) sometimes the unknown regions as bulwarks against destruction.

In one of the many periods that the Jedi believed the Sith to be vanquished (this just happened to be the latest stretch of time, not the first) this academy called the Spirit Academy had been forgotten, as had all its treasures.

It would have remained that way until he and Darth Corrious had found it, thought Harry, if it wasn't for the great irony of life, of the Galaxy. The Jedi might have called it the will of the Force. Harry just thought it was darkly funny.

One thousand five hundred years before the _Homeward Bound_ entered orbit, long after the Jedi had abandoned and forgotten about the Spirit Academy, a small splinter group of Jedi had found it and put it to good use.

Originally there were fifty two of the splintered Jedi and Harry found it deeply amusing because leaving the Jedi to form a splinter group in a form of exile was how the Sith were supposed to have begun (though in their case the exile was mandatory).

It was a shame, he mused, that not every exile embraced the dark side.

These particular exiles were in fact stubbornly clinging to weak light side teachings having left the main order on trivial philosophical grounds as far as Darth Corrious reported to Harry. They had left because of the then recent twin surges of opinion (and later bans) against Jedi marrying, having families or having multiple padawans at any one time.

Indeed in the modern day multiple padawans were strictly forbidden and marriage was only allowed with the most unique of exceptions (these exceptions hadn't been asked for, let alone used, in over one hundred years).

These exiles called themselves the First Jedi in deference to the fact that they were trying to follow (as they saw it) the original path that the Jedi were meant to walk. They were not the first to break away, nor would they be the last, however they would die today.

Darth Corrious commanded it, that and all of their treasures.

He would get his wish, Harry thought, mostly anyway. He was after all sending a dark side practitioner and, as a rule, we do secret away as much power as we can manage.

He brought the _Homeward Bound_ into land using the scanners aboard his ship to find that there were currently forty five lifesigns on the surface of the world. The Spirit Academy was clearly modeled on the temple in Coruscant but instead of the distinctive four towers there was only a single spire and also (given the rather small landmass) instead of a grand entrance like the Processional Way there was only a landing pad connected to two massive durasteel doors.

Doors which were open.

Harry smiled viciously as he strode down the exit ramp, the adrenaline already beginning to sing in the Juyo masters blood, as he drew his unlit lightsaber followed only by two ball droids and four Jedi Killers (often just shortened to Killers). Essentially these new droids were improved copies of the training droid that he had given the Jedi Council but with the safety's removed.

Harry strode towards the open doors, lightsaber held loosely and easily in his left hand, scanning for approaching Jedi. He found himself oddly disappointed that there were only two of them moving forwards to intercept him. Clearly they were Master and Padawan.

"So you are the reason that our communications failed" The master, a duros, stated in a bland tone. The human padawan merely looked puzzled.

"Actually" Harry smoothly disagreed "That would be the jamming system currently stored in my ships garage". He paused "Are you here to delay me from my goal?".

"Actually" the duros Jedi said amicably "I am here to ascertain your purpose".

"Oh" replied Harry almost jovially "forgive me. It's become second nature for me to keep this up now". Harry closed his eyes and let his force aura, which had been restrained by the Clouding, free and the hungry, angry and seductive need of the dark side swept through the two Jedi.

"Dark Jedi" whispered the Padawan. The idiotic boy couldn't be more than thirteen, Harry mused, it's time he had a lesson in the unfairness of life.

"Technically no" He responded cheekily " I was, after all, never a Jedi". With that his eyes finally opened and the lurid yellow of the dark side almost shone mercilessly from his eyes. "Shall we begin?".

With that his lightsaber hummed to life, the red blade hungry for death, Harry's face amused.

With a snarl Harry threw himself at the Jedi Master who, in turn, fell back on a clumsy Soresu. Within a few passes of their blades Harry knew that he had him and so, with a vicious feint towards the legs, Harry twisted the blade up and gently, almost lovingly, put the tip of his lightsaber through the Jedi Masters throat.

This entire exchange had only taken around ten seconds. The Jedi Master's yellow blade shut off and fell to the earth with a quiet thump.

The Padawan had frozen in fear as his master fought for his life and now, after he had died, looking at Harry's smiling face, the padawan ran.

Harry could taste the boys fear and panic wafting on the breeze and he allowed himself to revel in it for a moment. After a moment his mouth twisted and before the boy got too far he acted.

"Coward" he spat and with a negligent gesture the unfortunate padawan was lifted off his feet, grasping his throat as he couldn't breathe, only to then be flung violently into one of the open durasteel doors head first.

Though the boy's body hitting the durasteel door had made a clang it was the unmistakeable sound of his neck snapping that ended his life.

Harry turned to his droids "Killers you're with me. Ball Droids hunt out all of the padawans and deal with them". Each ball droid had five dart shooters each one was loaded with ten darts per shooter and could rapidly fire them at around three darts per second.

The ball droids moved off uncontested as no one inside knew of the deadly Basilisk venom tipped darts that each carried.

Ten more Jedi came rushing out and Harry's grin widened "Fun". He whispered even as the multitude of blue, yellow and green blades coming towards him caused his adrenaline and excitement to spike as he wondered how long this would take him.

Both Harry and his Killers moved in to attack while Harry Force Jumped into the middle of his enemies.

Ducking and weaving between the mass of Jedi Harry used the fact they were close together to cut down three before they could react. Lightsaber combat was often decided in a matter of heartbeats, one simple slip and a heartbeat later that person would be either dead or victorious. His droids engaged four of the remaining Jedi in the first heartbeat but Harry, in turn, was forced on the defensive.

Only the incredibly unpredictable nature of Juyo, the Jedi's own numbers hindering their force powers and Harry's own force pushes kept him alive in the next ten heartbeats. Still Harry was able to laugh as he saw one of his droids cut down a Jedi who was too busy gaping over the fact that their lightsaber didn't shear through, but was rather stopped by, one of the twin Phrik blades that each droid carried.

One Jedi threw a rock at him with the Force, which was the size of his fist, while another tried to take out his legs with a rare purple lightsaber. Harry contemptuously cut through the rock while, at the same time, leaping into the air to avoid the leg slash (thankful that the third Jedi who had been about to attack him had turned at the death of his fellow to fight the droids). He managed to land behind and facing away from the rock throwing Jedi. He then thrust his saber backwards and slightly up impaling the unfortunate soul through the heart.

Harry then quickly demolished his final opponent, giving into his simmering rage, in a short and dirty fight that was less combat and more of a clubbing, feeling the dark side pulse with his every movement.

Between Harry and the droids the other Jedi stood for barely a minute before falling.

Harry turned, flanked by the droids and checked his enemies were dead before heading deeper inside the Spirit Academy with the sounds of padawans dying all around them as they began their true hunt.

Twenty five minutes later torn and bloody with one ball droid destroyed and two of his Jedi Killers in pieces there was finally only one Jedi left alive. He or she waited for them at the top of the tower.

Harry's breath came in sharp gasps while he was bleeding from a dozen minor wounds. As he was trained he took the pain and fed it back into the Force, stoking his rage and keeping him empowered, as every sting inspired more anger and every drop of blood more hatred.

Pushing open the door he found a tastefully decorated room with three chairs from where the Triad (seemingly their version of the High Council) ruled. On the middle seat was a middle aged female Miraluka who was also the last First Jedi master.

"What, couldn't see this coming?" Harry said snarkily

"Of course I did" replied the Miraluka "but this was always going to happen Harry James Potter". he gaped at her in true surprise as she continued "All of the alternatives were worse. At least this way it was quick".

"Worse than the Sith destroying this academy utterly?"

"You are not Sith" she was still calm even as Harry's face twisted in rage.

"Really? Could have fooled me" came the sarcastic response.

"You are his tool that is all". Came the biting reply "Do you even remember why you agreed to serve him?"

"For the power to do what I want" He almost shouted, suddenly unreasonably angry, the amulet burning and yet cold on his chest while the Sith runes glowed softly red.

"And what do you want to do? Can you even think that far back? Or have you become so lost in the addictive and seductive nature of the dark side that you can't even remember anymore?".

"My service was the price of the Sith" Harry was screaming now, the amulet was burning colder and colder on his chest and his rage was growing by the second.

"If you believe that then you truly are a fool. Look at what they have done to you Harry, you were a hero of sorts and a good man, a young one maybe, but a good man nonetheless. Look how they have twisted that, look how they have corrupted that. All you care for now is power and bloodshed." Her face softened "Can you not see that they want nothing less than your complete obedience and eventual destruction when you are no longer of use. Just like any tool".

"What else have you seen?" he spat intrigue despite himself.

"I have seen that you will never become the master, not truly, not in the way you would want as they will never let you. If you turn away from this path you have a chance to improve lives" she added softly seemingly focusing on the amulet hanging from his neck "and you will weep for me". She continued in a stronger voice "I have seen that if you continue on this path all you will find is death. True death".

"You lie".

"You know I do not, you can sense it.. Even if I could why would I? After all at the moment you are a Sith weapon and I am therefore going to die. Death is the only true gift of the Sith. Everything leads to death…"

"Then let me give you that gift". Suddenly and violently he decapitated the unknown woman and she fell dead, almost soundlessly, at his feet.

You are a tool she had said.

He would find the truth and damn the consequences.

His last year under Sith tutelage had begun.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8 :Betrayal, Revenge and Realisations

789 BBY

2,864 ATC

Brentaal System/Coruscant

Harry needed the truth and that is what led him back to his private home in the dead of night, but like everything else in his life, this carried significant risk. If his master caught him skulking outside of his private chambers then the best that Harry could hope for was a quick death and, surrounded by Holocrons (some of which he had collected himself), Harry admitted to himself that his master's Force senses were acute. Harry doubted that his almost completely artificial connection would be in any way compete.

To limit the risk to himself no aspect of the Force would be employed, not against Darth Corrious's prodigious ability, nor would he enter the room with the intent to harm his master as that too would alert him.

He had to know the truth, thankfully he had a skill that would suit his needs that he had managed to keep carefully hidden from Darth Corrious. Magic.

"Alohomora" he whispered while waving his hand at his master's door and quietly moved inside as the door slowly opened.

Harry's eyes quickly took note of everything that he could see, mostly out of habit, (with Darth Corrious as a master he always checked a room he entered for threats) being a dark side user of any sort was dangerous in the extreme. There was also an element of curiosity in his gaze however as Harry had been in this room before.

Darth Corrious's personal chamber was decorated opulently with beautiful Sith tapestries on the wall emphasising the Sith order's supposed dominance and victories over their most hated of foes the Jedi. The soft plush and expensive carpet made no noise when it connected with Harry's sturdy boots as he moved slowly towards his master

Even sleeping Darth Corrious looked every inch the hateful and embittered man that he was. Corrious's brow was furrowed with whatever slight that he was dreaming about and his body slowly moving back and forth on the bed, as if to avoid blows from an imaginary foe, with his mouth set in a grimace. These were not the sleeping habits of a happy or peaceful man.

Hate it seemed, thought Harry amused, can empower but it will never leave you even in your sleep.

"Somnum Penitus" whispered Harry, pointing the ring at his master's forehead.

After the disaster that was the Triwizard tournament Harry had learned a few sleeping spells thinking that they might enable him to catch a few prisoners when the inevitable conflict broke out between him and Voldemort.

"Legilimens" Harry said softly feeling his mind move, like treacle slowly dripping down a spoon, seeping into Darth care not to go too fast, just in case that man had any mental defences, Harry began to slowly look through Darth Corrious's mind.

It wasn't an easy task to study some else's mind. Unlike surface thoughts people did not project their inner most desires like a wailing baby. They were also not generally organised like something easy to peruse some great system of filing cabinets for example (occlumency being one of the rare exceptions to that rule). Instead memories tended to be connected by, what could be considered to be, one of the most personal games of word association ever. There were however no hard and fast rules and all of that made his task exceptionally difficult.

The traps that Darth Corrious had inside his mind were ingenious and unlike anything that he had ever seen before. If his occlumency was a slow river invading and probing Corrious's mind then the defences the vile man created were like bear traps made of black lightning. Painful and dangerous but, not designed for magic, his legilimency flowed around them easily.

Six and a half hours later his self imposed occlumency barriers on his emotions were straining against his towing anger (not at all helped by the fact that he was still wearing his amulet). Part of the reason that he was angry came from the fact that he got no headway at all until he had tried for any association to the word idiot.

The rest of his anger came from what he found.

Harry was assaulted by things, by knowledge, that was frankly appalling even to him. In his darkest moments he knew that he had fallen far but Corrious's mind was an abattoir of such vileness and such twisted hatred that it made Harry seem like a saint. There was very little, if anything, human left in that twisted shell. Amongst everything else there were countless rapes, tortures, murders and experiments on anything that the man thought lesser than himself (which of course meant everything).

Harry had been betrayed. If he were honest with himself Harry expected that but, what he didn't expect was the level of manipulation that Corrious had gone through, not just once or twice but, systematically and from at least their first meeting.

Exactly much further beyond that, if at all, Harry was unable to discern but he was certain that some form of dark side compulsion had been used from the very first moment that they had met in person. He had made so many and so often that Harry was unsure how many of his decisions were his own, to the point that even his decision to learn from the Sith was in question.

Though given his master's penchant for plans within plans and manipulation Harry could hazard a guess.

It only got worse when he created the amulet as, though it was designed to augment his connection to the Force in a limited (dark side only) fashion, Corrious had altered the ritual significantly to consistently add to and reinforce the compulsions anytime he used it to access the dark side as well as increase its seductive and addictive nature. It made sense then that Harry was not given a full, or even a true, instruction in Sith runes even though he had asked for one. He had simply dutifully learnt only what he was told.

It also increased his personal loyalty Corrious, or as much the dark side ever could, by twisting his desire to go home into a desire to serve. It was both sickening and ingenious, not to mention brutally effective.

None of that of course affected the guilt that he was feeling however, as further proof of it's effectiveness, the amulet was already trying to turn his guilt into a blinding rage which in turn would encourage him to access the dark side through the amulet and start the cycle all over again.

Now that Harry thought about it he couldn't even take the damn thing off. It, unlike most Force related topics, was resistant to magic (though whether by accident or design Harry couldn't say). He couldn't even kill himself, he thought with revulsion, as that would run the risk of the amulet being used again on someone else.

Frankly he had enough guilt he thought

How Harry wanted to kill Darth Corrious at that moment, his hands itched to do something even as his mouth filled with spells unspoken. He knew that if he tried though it would mean an all out fight with his master and he was unsure if he could win.

Worse, if the fight did happen and he won Harry knew he could not do that without using everything in his arsenal including the amulet and the dark side. If he did that, he knew he would truly be lost and eventually be destroyed by his own inner darkness.

More than that, Corrious was almost done with his pathetic attack dog (as he thought of Harry), having already begun training a true apprentice. He even had an idea that Harry himself would be the final test for his favourite student, a Bith, and a stepping stone towards his students rise. He even had a contingency plan in place in the form of explosives secreted in the shuttle that Harry sometimes used and, not so coincidentally, was a gift from Corrious.

This all meant that even if Harry was able to kill his master there was still the unknown threat of the student and any plans that they might have made against Harry. Harry was not completely foolish, he knew that even in his current state of dark side rage he would be hard pressed to kill one let alone two. He didn't want to think of his chances without the amulet but couldn't afford to act with it..

In the end though, in a sense none of that mattered, it didn't change anything as no matter the plans, no matter the manipulation or the circumstances the blood was still on his hands.

More than that the dark side still called to him from a primal part of himself and he supposed that, now that he was attuned to it, it always would.

He needed to leave, to think and plan, that much Harry knew. More than anything else though in that moment Harry needed to get rid of that amulet.

Coruscant

"Harry!" Shouted Varlya Tarvam, the fifteen year old padawan, rushing into the diner and hugging the (seemingly) twenty seven year old man. "Where have you been? Your messages have gone from weekly to one every four months or so and then to once a year. What happened to you? Are you okay?"

Chuckling was heard behind her as her master, the Jedi Knight Orion Lanham, followed her into Nindo's diner in the Senate district of Coruscant.

"Hello little one" Harry said warmly, smiling at the fact that even if he wanted to answer he could not, she had asked her questions so fast and without pausing for breath. "Is she still always like this?" He continued turning to her master.

"I am afraid so Magister Potter" responded Knight Lanham with false solemnity " we did try to train her out of it but, alas, the lesson never seemed to take".

"Hey!" came her her predictably indignant voice.

"Easy little one" replied Harry affectionately "I have missed you too".

After that sat in the fashionable restaurant on chairs made of expensive Greel wood and behind a table seemingly carved from a single block, Harry cleared his throat to begin. He looked at the two frankly for a very long moment.

"You want to know where I have been and what I have been up to?" He looked at the younger padawan in silent apology, both for what he had done and for what he was about to do. "I have been to many places and left my mostly still thriving business in the hands of droids because I have been looking into the death of Master Sekel".

Varlya's knuckles clenched with emotion as she remembered her first master's death and, for a moment, she was back there again feeling the dart in her neck. She was abruptly brought out of it by her masters hand on her arm, a gentle reminder that he was there, and Harry's compassionate and understanding green eyes

"The Senate and the Jedi both launched separate investigations into his death and House Husk. It all came to nothing in the end". Came the calm voice of Orion "Unless you know something that we don't?".

"With all due respect to the Jedi Order you are not what you once were" ignoring both of his friends frowns he continued "besides Orion no matter your beliefs you are right that people will talk to me who would never speak to a Jedi. As for the Republic" Here he snorted "that bunch of political whores couldn't find their own arses without a map and they are so corrupt that they would charge you for the privilege...most of them anyway". Orion's laughter and Varlya's tisk at his (however accurate description) of the Senate and the arrival of the waitress to take their orders, red brick tea all round, broke up Harry's explanation and gave them all time to collect their thoughts.

"Why not take your suspicions to the High Council?" quired Varlya.

"Did you know that Master Yoda was appointed to the High Council as a junior member last month?".

"Ahhh" said Knight Lanham knowingly " I can see why that might be a problem".

"Well I don't" Valya said in confusion "What has Master Yoda got to do with anything? Do you two not get along?".

"That's an understatement... though I do respect his power and, sometimes, his opinion" came Harry's response as he slowly sipped his tea and enjoyed the rich, dark and soothing flavour. "As for Yoda he knows, or should I say suspects, that I've stumbled across old Jedi or even Sith records that I have not turned over to the Jedi. This is technically a crime in the Republic. The fact that if I had any and I'm not saying that I do mind you, but if I did, they would be stored out of Republic space and therefore not Yoda's concern seems to matter not at all".

"Should they not belong to the Jedi?" she asked.

"No" said Harry sternly even as he continued " though your master would disagree, as we have had this argument many times, I say that the people who wrote them are dead and, in most cases, not Jedi".

"But only the Jedi can truly understand them" interrupted Knight Lanham.

"There speaks the arrogance of the Jedi" Harry chided his friend softly "what of the traditions other than the Sith or the Jedi? When did the Jedi way become the only way? Especially when you can't even agree on the correct interpretation of your own code?". He winked at Varlya "That's another reason that I'm not his biggest fan. He's what's politely known as a progressive and follows the easier emotionally stunting 'new' code, unlike your master here".

"I follow the new code!" she said with an edge to her voice.

"You try" responded Harry "but I happen to believe it's unnatural. As for you? You are young, one day, hopefully you will learn".

Varlya muttered something very un-Jedi like at that and her master raised an eyebrow.

"Yoda also thinks that as Harry is head of Potter Industries and Potter Industries benefits from certain corrupt Senators that he too is likely corrupt".

"Just because I benefit from the system doesn't mean I agree with it. The Republics corruption cannot be laid at my feet". Harry interrupted while frowning.

"I know my friend, truly I do. There is also your family's history of genetic manipulation to consider. A lot of Jedi find it unnatural".

"They are fine ones to talk about children and the natural order…" Harry responded, the sarcasm palatable.

"Be nice" was the simple reply from Orion.

"How is that our business anyway?" asked Varlya " are you all evil clones or something?".

"You cannot clone a Force Sensitive " said Knight Lanham " but you can purify their D.N.A to remove any genetic abnormalities or diseases. That is what our friends family has done for a long time. They find it slightly disturbing that the Potter family has no traditional family unit".

"Hypocrites" Harry said. Both Jedi dutifully ignored him.

"No mothers?" Varlya's natural curiosity made her ask.

"No little one" came Harry's response " such a process would involve a donated egg, an artificial womb and my D.N.A. As part of the process all Potters keep this height and face but no Potter created by that process would be a clone, there would still be a level of genetic diversity from the donated egg".

"You make it sound like there are more Potters than just you?" She asked.

"There are" he lied "I have, through family tradition, allowed my son to be born and his name is William David Potter".

"Tell me about him" she said excited.

"I will do but it will have to wait until I have met him". She, very maturely, pouted.

Suddenly Varlya's brows knitted in thought and brought the discussion back on point.

"Why would the council be testing your D.N.A.?" Her lips quirked "Jedi arrogance?" Harry laughed while Orion tried, and failed, to look disapprovingly at the pair.

"Stop corrupting my padawan" Orion joked while studying Harry intently "Varlya could you go and pay the waitress please?" he added giving her a handful of credits. "How far has your investigation gotten?" he asked as soon as she was out of earshot.

"I don't think that we will ever know who pulled the trigger" he lied again "but I have figured out who paid them".

"How?".

"Heavily encrypted bank transfers and company plans to take advantage of the attack before it actually happened".

"It was a company? Who? And why haven't you shown this evidence to anyone?".

"Industrial Automation of course and I don't have the evidence in my hands yet". He lied one final time "Do you really think that anyone would believe me when I said that one of my competitors had killed a Jedi but that I didn't have the evidence yet?".

"How will you get it? Do you have a mole in the company?".

"Ask me no questions and I will tell you no lies" came the flippant response. Harry looked at his friend "Getting the information might take up to six months. Can you try and get me a direct line to the High Council for when I do?".

"I can try" responded Orion "but I can tell there is something else my friend...what is it?".

"This will be very dangerous for me...If anything happens… could you tell Varlya it was quick and painless even if it wasn't?".

"You want a Jedi to lie?".

"It's a good lie my friend" came Harry's response along with a soft sad smile.

Later that day Knight Lanham was walking in the Temple hallways with Jedi Masters Yoda and Tuspin Myec. The quiet presence of the Falleen and the tapping of Yoda's walking stick were of great comfort to the troubled man.

"Do you believe him?" came the calculating voice of the Falleen master, his question coming smoothly from his, currently green, mouth.

"Yes. I truly believe my friend is likely to die" he replied sorrowfully.

"Do you think he would accept our help?" continued Myec.

"No. I know him, he is a good man, he won't put the few Jedi he likes at risk and given how some have treated him in the past he wouldn't trust the average Jedi anyway". This last part was said with a glare towards Yoda.

"We, sense his mind, cannot. This, leads to trust, does not" came the voice of Yoda.

"Many species are resistant to our mental arts" came the disgusted response.

"Though not other humans" interjected Myec while holding up his hand to forestall an argument. "Besides if he does indeed come through with this information he will have earned our trust".

Yoda nodded to this in silent agreement. Orion Lanham in contrast to the others radiated his anger as he left with the parting shot.

"I did not know that it was necessary for people's minds to be read before we could trust them! I'm sure that, if my friend lives, he will be _delighted_ to know you now trust him despite that fact."

Morri

Harry was in life threatening danger though unlike last time it wasn't to gain information (that he had) but rather to get rid of the anchor around his neck. To do this he was headed to a place which for him was very dangerous. He was heading to a place that was lost and yet almost glowing in the light side of the Force.

Morri an empty world of rolling plains and, more importantly, one of the first graveyards of the proto-Jedi after they left Tython.

Though, Harry thought, graveyard wasn't quite accurate, more like an ash planet, as this was where they used to burn their dead. Like with many things the Jedi Order had evolved a little and moved on. Eventually the quiet world of Morri was forgotten, a remnant and a memory of a time long lost.

Morri wasn't always so empty. Once just like Coruscant it was a thriving city world but, unlike the capital of the Republic, it never became one single city but was instead several hundred metropolis's spread apart and dotting the landscape like grey twinkling stars. This allowed for beautiful natural plains to be seen between the massive cities.

Why this place was ever abandoned Harry did not know. What he did know was that it was lost to both Jedi and Sith. One of his exploration droids had found this planet around six months before he began his Sith training though, around a year into his training, he had sent an encrypted message to Cadi to stop producing them.

That should have been a warning sign, thought Harry, but I was so sure of the strength of my occlumency barriers that I never considered Force based compulsions. I would never have given up the search for my home and switched droid production if I was in my right mind. I am a fool and, no matter how diminished my capacity, a murderer.

What tortured Harry the most was not that he'd stopped searching or his home, he had fixed that quickly enough by issuing new orders, nor was it the HP-21 solider droids that he had produced almost two million of instead of the explorer droids in a now nonexistent attempt to overthrow the Republic. The HP-21 droids was the standard solider model and was a slightly slower, bulkier, quadrium plated and blaster wielding cousin of Harry's Jedi Killers. Any problems with the droids being left unattended so long were easily fixed and storage space was found, just in case, for the soldiers.

No, what tormented Harry the most was the uncertainty of it all. He had, after all, killed Master Sekel and become a bounty hunter and assassin without the amulet's overwhelming influence.

So how much, Harry pondered, was the compulsions (including any placed on him before the amulet for who knows how long and situations designed to leave him with no better options)? How much was him? Was all of it? Was any of it?.

With a shake of his head Harry brought his ship into land. His destination was the Necropolis, more specifically the landing pad that jutted out from it, and he would need his mind completely on task.

He couldn't remove the amulet because the dark side protected it and any use by Harry of the darkside would simply empower it more. Added to that it could have protections and functions that Harry knew nothing about and considering the designer if not the maker it was more than likely.

That only left the light side then and he couldn't very well go to the Jedi raving (in their view) about the resurgent Sith whom they believed to be destroyed especially as inevitably it would come out that Harry had killed one of their most beloved Jedi Masters.

So that left the Harry Potter special, Harry thought, stupid, dangerous and insane.

After a full day of searching the deserted and eerie streets he found what he was looking for. He found himself in what must have once been a mortuary of some sort but now, due to time and the elements, it was just three walls that were more rubble than anything else. There was no roof nor art to be found in the building though there was evidence that there used to be (going by the scratches and tell tale gouges in the wall). Now it was just derelict.

With no better ideas Harry knelt to meditate and for the first time in his life consciously reached out to try and connect with the light side of the Force.

Harry opened his eyes quickly deeply frustrated that nothing seemed to be happening. When he opened his eyes however it was not the ruins that greeted his gaze, instead of crumbling stone, he saw nothing. It was almost like standing in the void of space yet, instead of everything being black, there was just witness all around.

To say that Harry was unnerved would be an understatement.

"What do you want" came many voices from all around, all at once and from a distance, like a chorus singing from out of a deep well.

"Help" came Harry's voice.

"Why should we help you?" the tone of the chorus was now accusatory "Because you were tricked? Because you were a foolish child?".

"Because without help I will never be free and never get home…".

"HAVE YOU LEARNT NOTHING!" The voices were so loud that Harry dropped to his knees cradling his head, ears bleeding and eyes closed. After a moment the voices continued in a much softer tone "Look at us".

Harry opened his eyes and saw Luna...or at least it looked like her except her eyes, like everything else in this strange place, were completely white. "The problem with people Harry" it continued "Is that they cannot reconcile the duality which is us and yet they end up equally unable to survive the extremes of us without being fundamentally changed". It looked at him quizzically for a moment as if he was some great puzzle to solve.

"You don't understand why we are telling you this do you?" Harry shook his head "Nevermind. If you leave her you will understand eventually...or you won't. Linear time is such an odd and tricky thing".

"What are you?" he whispered. Oddly enough the musical laugh that burst forth from the being's mouth did nothing to soothe him.

"What makes you think that we are anything?" It paused, cocking its head to one side, before continuing " You are familiar with gatekeepers of holocrons yes? I suppose that I am the mostly light gatekeeper for this planet for lack of a better term. Now answer my question properly. Why should I help you?".

"Because many will die if I do not attempt to stop Corrious" came the swift reply.

"That is not a good enough reason. People die all the time it is, after all, in your nature". The entity stood there patiently as if waiting for Harry to try again.

"How can I be truly judged, truly a hero or a villain if this amulet always clouds my thoughts and is eternally influencing my choices?" he finally said unsure of himself "After all that's part of life too, no? To truly choose who you become? It's funny" he said looking into the entity's pure white eyes "How the choices you make can change who you become".

Harry stood tall and finished with "I'm afraid I must withdraw my request. This is my problem and because of my stupidity I have become a killer, I know deep in my bones how easy it is to do it, and that is something no one should ever know. We don't live in a perfect universe however...I am afraid my mistakes are my own and I don't deserve your help".

"And that is why I will help you Harry Potter. The universe is not fair but some will always try and make it so." The Gatekeeper looked down at the amulet and it disappeared, without a sound, as if it never was. "Do not think that you are forgiven as you are as bound by your past as any other".

She then eyed him critically "Here is a taste of the future that you have started to move away from and what you will become if you fall again". With that heartening statement Harry was treated to scenes of mass destruction, desolation and pure hatred. He saw himself kill his master and his master's apprentice. He saw himself lead the butchery of the Jedi and install himself as overlord of all.

Worse he saw himself, having somehow found a way home, inviting his friends to serve at his feet and their inevitable refusal. He slowly killed them all. The screams of Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Neville and even his Luna. The message was clear, if Harry fell again there would be death, the death of everything he cared about and needed. He would truly become an empty vessel of power and hate.

"One final warning, in memory of the sweet soul you once were, do not allow your former master a hint of the Forge or of your magic in combat. His death is by no means certain at this point in time and if he survived he would use both and a version worse than you just saw would come to pass. You are lucky that he is absorbed in training his new apprentice or he would already be questioning you".

Then he was back in the dilapidated mortuary and he wept. He wept for all he had done, for everyone he had done it too and he wept all the harder because he believed that if he went home tomorrow all of his friends, all those he loved, would hate him.

He couldn't blame them though as, in this moment, they couldn't have hated him as much as he hated himself. After a time he stopped crying. Things were in motion now, plans were all coming to a head, his showdown with his master was coming and he had little time to prepare.

Only when he had finished that could he try and make amends for what he had done.

His plan took four more weeks and two 'serving droids' for Darth Corrious.

Ossyk

"Master" Harry said as he knelt before Darth Corrious, in the latter's garden, carefully keeping his face blank and his clouding of his auror active. Though, mused Harry while he waited for his 'master' to speak, that is about all that I can do with this body's natural abilities. The late evening darkness added an almost surreal note to the meeting.

Darth Corrious glanced down at the amulet hanging from Harry's neck and his body seemed to relax (at least slightly).

"Acolyte" came the expected and cool response. "What do you have for me?" Harry presented another ornate amulet in his fist.

"An amulet of Darth Bane my master" Corrious gently took the amulet, noticing the symbol of The Army of Darkness, feeling the amulets great age. However one did not become a Dark Lord of the Sith without also becoming a paranoid bastard.

Darth Corrious leant into the Force studying the amulet for a moment, looking for any hint of a trap, and what he found surprised him utterly. He found nothing, no sith poison, no Force based compulsions and no attempt on his life at all.

It appears, Corrious thought while putting on the amulet, that my worthless acolyte has actually done something right for once. Of course, he added, doing that without gaining anything for oneself first was one of the many reasons that he would die and soon at that.

Harry's smirk (unnoticed by Corrious) briefly fluttered on the young man's mouth before it was dragged, very quickly, behind Harry's Occlumency barriers.

"I must commend you my acolyte. Your new cleaning droids are superb and they have been a great help this past month" said Corrious with a smirk. Harry, with his emotions free from the effects of the amulet that Corrious had helped him create, bared the barb with equanimity. The thing hanging around Harry's neck was nothing more than powerless transfigured rock.

The amulet around Corrious's neck however, while also a work of magic, was much less benign. Taking the Morri Gatekeepers warning to heart he had added no dangerous runes, as they might have been construed as an attack and detected, but he had added several others.

First and foremost he had added the most powerful compulsion runes that he could find, not to harm, merely so that Corrious (and hopefully) any future Sith Lord would wear the amulet.

That was why, Harry thought, I made up the story about Darth Bane. The Sith should be arrogant enough and prideful enough that every generation would wear the thing. The runes just ensured that.

He had also, mindful of not giving away magic entirely and certain that he could not outright win this battle, engraved not only a runic tracer but also a powerful concealment cluster over the entire thing.

In short he had made a Sith Lord tracker that, coincedently, was connected to a runic bracelet currently on Cadi (it would warm in the immediate presence of the amulet and glow briefly if they were on the same planet).

In the same vein all of his droids (as of five minutes previously) had left the planet, destroying every digital record of him and about him that they could find as they went, they also replaced as many artifacts and Holocrons from here with fakes over the past month as they could. He had also found and destroyed all of his blood samples and darts from his gun.

However right here and now Harry's almost peaceful demeanor caused his former master to be suspicious as, not only was Harry calm, he was also suppressing the dark miasma of the amulet (something he had never done in Corrious's presence) or not using it.

Corrious knew that shouldn't be possible, he pondered the problem for a moment, and then it came to eyes widened as he realised that it wouldn't be possible unless… Corrious reached for his lightsaber.

As Corrious's eyes widened Harry knew the game was up and sprang into action, lightsaber flaring to life in his left hand and blaster in his right, even before Corrious's hand could touch his own.

Harry surged upwards from a kneeling position taking Corrious's right arm off at the shoulder in a flash of blood red light and a sizzle of cauterising heat. The cut would have cleaved the Sith Lord cleanly in two if he had not already been moving away.

Before Harry could move in to rectify that oversight however several things went wrong and, as is the nature of the universe, all seemed to happen at almost exactly the same time.

First Harry was telekinetically thrown thrown far across the room by Darth Corrious giving Harry, at the very least, a significant concussion. One thing that the Dursley's had taught Harry was how to work around that, but the fact remained, that without using the amulet he had very few defences to force powers. This meant that he would have to rely on his lightsaber (which was not the most ideal of long distance weapons) and his blaster which had shots that could be skillfully returned to him.

Second, and possibly most perilous to Harry at that moment, a Bith entered the garden from the main residence.

It had a lightsaber and oozed with the dark side like a fetid bog.

"Fan-fucking-tastic" said Harry even as the Bith moved in to deal with Harry, in the Sith manner, which of course meant vicious and bloody.

That actually led directly into the final problem. As Harry moved into Juyo's cadences, his style faltered, without his anger to power it he found that it was no longer the fluid aggression that he was used to.

Worse in his recently addicted state Harry knew that he could do better if he just gave in and a part of him wanted to. Harry also knew that if he did he would be lost beyond all saving. He would never be free and would become the thing that killed his friends and everyone he loved.

Blocking a precise slash from the Form II favouring Bith he quickly made a decision that he knew he might later regret if only for the pain that it would most likely cause him. He also had no other ideas to avoid dark side use against a well trained and certainly more powerful opponent.

He resisted the urge to call on the dark side. Though there maybe a time when I can use it thought Harry, at least a little, today was certainly not that day.

Quickly he purposefully locked blades with the Bith and, holding his lightsaber in one hand, said in a bored tone

"I must confess that I find myself disappointed" Harry said conversationally, as if he had all the time in the world and this battle was nothing to him, causing the Bith to growl and begin to use both hands to push their locked blades towards Harry's face.

Even as Harry felt his hair beginning to burn under the heat of the blades he grinned viciously and continued "After all, even in my controlled state, I would have realised by now that there was a reason I was winning so easily.." he lowered his voice so the Bith leaned in even closer "Like the fact that you seem to have forgotten that I have a blaster in my other hand!".

The Bith's eyes widened, panic mingling with the scorn and hatred usually found there, but not for very long as three blaster shots rang out. One hit Harry's enemy in each lung and the third hit him in the throat so that, gurgling, the Bith fell to the floor already dying.

"Here's a hint" Harry called out to his injured former master sarcasm laced in his voice "If you're going to teach someone all the nasty, dirty and effective ways to kill don't piss them off!" As he felt Darth Corrious's chosen apprentice breathe his last he continued "Oh no...it looks like you're going to need another butt monkey. This ones going off". Breathing hard and sweating Harry's eyes searched the relative darkness for any sign of Darth Corrious.

Taunting an angry Sith was not without its perils as Harry learnt to his detriment when Corrious's lightsaber flew out of the darkness and lopped Harry's forearm at the elbow. "Fuck" Harry screamed, falling to his knees in shock from the sudden amputation even as Corrious began to advance.

Corrious moved forward with agonizing slowness, blasting Harry with Sith Lightning as he went, eyes yellow and hungry with a mouth spitting hated words so fast that Harry was unable to make them out. Harry, without his lightsaber, had no defence and was blasted back and down to the floor.

As Corrious kept moving forward and intensifying the lightning that was being unleashed on Harry, Harry himself, could only think two things through the torture that was lighting his blood vessels a neon like red and seemingly cooking his bones.

First was that the rune on his chest was beginning to activate and, if he wanted magic to be kept a secret, that could not be allowed to happen.

The second and final thing was just as important, through his pain filled gaze and panic at the rune breaking down, Harry noticed that Corrious had drawn level with his lightsaber.

With all of his meager ability and in desperation Harry focused as much of his will as he could on the saber and it responded violently. The blade flew directly towards Corrious's head (which stopped the lightning) and although Corrious did manage to move most of his head out of the way it did cost the madman a chunk of his lower jaw.

Not waiting around to see what happened to his 'master', and with effects of the Sith Lightning having taken their toll, Harry shakily activated the grappling spike to launch himself away from the garden. As quickly as he could manage in his highly injured state he made his way to his shuttle pulling up his hood to hide horrendous scars.

As the shuttle took off Harry realised that Darth Corrious was alive as the timer on the hidden explosives activated. Not having much time at all he quickly contacted the Jedi with the provided emergency code.

"Report, Mr Potter, you have hmmm?" Great, thought Harry, the sanctimonious holier-than-thou green rat.

"I have found the evidence" he replied even as he pressed a button sending pre-prepared files (that though true copies were selected for both their ties to Industrial Automaton and lack of such ties to him). Harry was thankful that this holo emitter only showed his covered head as he did not want awkward questions about his missing arm or all the other wounds he was suffering from.

"The evidence shows that the assassin, whoever he was, was hired by Siverere Mannesh…"

And with that the shuttle exploded and Harry Potter died.

Harry gasped as he awoke in the hidden chamber of the _Homeward Bound_ on Brentaal disconnected from the Force and in a new body for the first time in years.

He swiftly set course for the Cadi System and left orders for a new blood bag to be prepared and stored, inwardly thankful that something like Transfer Essence was not needed, and wondering how happy his old master would be on the run.

By the time the Jedi arrived Harry was sure that Corrious would be long gone and, after a few years could even probably stop running but until then he would flee for fear of discovery by the Jedi. He also wondered how angry Corrious would be when he found that over 80% of his Holocrons and Artifacts were replaced with excellent, but useless, forgeries by the cleaning droids Harry had given him. He wondered how damaged and weak the future order would become now that all that knowledge was lost to them (hidden safely away in Cadi).

Two months and three days later William David Potter was given over to the Jedi, by way of droid carer and courier, for training at the tender biological age of one.

Unlike his 'father' he was both young enough to interest the Jedi and, more importantly, his force strength was prodigious even as a baby. By the time he reached his teens it would rival, if not surpass, that of Master Yoda.

So began his training as a Jedi.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Jedi The First

769 BBY

2,884 ATC

Coruscant

Harry Potter (alias William Potter) meditated on his past twenty years in the Jedi Temple and his time as a Padawan which, as of one week ago, was over.

In terms of Galactic history Industrial Automaton was now bankrupt and it's equipment had been bought wholesale by Potter Industries. The Potter family was now one of the wealthiest and most respected in the Core and the nature of the death of it's founder, serving the Republic and uncovering corruption, only enhanced the family's reputation.

Two out of every three droids in the Republic these days (outside the military) were of Potter make and business was so good in that regard that Cadi 2 (a uninhabitable barren rock) had become an automated factory world and almost all actual, legitimate, construction had been moved there. Any work by the Forge was still done on Cadi 1 (or just Cadi) but as most of that was military in nature (and therefore being both secret and illegal) it was done underground allowing the many building droids above to turn the planet into a virtual paradise of parks, soaring towers and beautiful buildings.

The whereabouts of Siverere Mannesh were still a mystery and even Harry himself did not know whether his former teacher was alive or dead, though given the nature of the Sith, he assumed dead by now.

As for Harry, he had originally come to the Jedi Temple for three simple reasons, the first of which was to try and simply clear his head. The uncertainty of his past ate at him and, due to the insidious nature of any compulsion charm, he had felt like he did not know anything for certain when he entered the Temple all those years ago. The Jedi offered a peace and clarity, especially in the early years that were less training intensive, that he had been desperate to find.

Though he had issues with the ideological changes that the so called progressives were slowly seeping throughout the Jedi Order joining the tenacious Dragon Clan as a Jedi Initiate had helped provide a truly immersive support network that Harry, for most of his life, had lacked.

Still, though he knew when the Force based manipulation from Darth Corrious had begun, he still had to wonder just how many decisions were his own since then and more than that, Corrious was nothing if not a forward thinker. Harry firmly believed that he had only succeeded as much as he had against Corrious because he had moved so quickly and that his former master, like most deep planners, did not do well with surprises.

That forward planning however made it highly unlikely, Harry thought, for Corrious to choose him and begin to use Force based compulsion on him out of the blue. How many decisions in his life then, how many actions were manipulated from afar to become only the choices that Corrious allowed?

It was also that line of thought which had originally driven Harry to seek, not only revenge on his master but also, the peace of the Jedi as the harsh truth was that he would probably never know for certain.

More than that, he was changed, the experiences of the few years under Sith tutelage had marked him deeply.

Those changes were the second reason that he had ended up with the Jedi for now. Regardless of the manipulations, regardless of how he got to this point he was the young brash Harry Potter no more. Ironically his rush to learn, the very rush that had allowed these changes, was all in a naive effort to gain enough skills and find a way home before he changed too much.

Needless to say that did not work out too well and his pace had slowed dramatically as he realised now that it was less about not changing and more about preserving as much of the old Harry as he could (if there was anything left was another question).

The third and final reason that Harry was there, serving a Republic that he had negligible ties to at best, was much simpler to understand.

Guilt.

The female Jedi Master had been right he had weeped for her, as he had all of them at one point or another, and it only seemed fair that (regardless of how culpable he was) as he had removed Jedi he should take up their cause in his own way.

How long he was going to do this for not even Harry was sure but, he did know that it was what he was doing for the foreseeable future. It also gave his holodroids a workout in making and pretending to be the highly fictitious younger brother of his, one Arthur Potter, who now 'ran' Potter Industries.

The door to Harry's quarters opened without a word of warning and in walked Jedi Padawan Arstonia Evon walked in, the Falleen girl was literally red with anger today, with a horrible scowl on her face.

She was quickly followed in by another friend and Jedi Padawan Hakk Fry (whose master was Harry's old friend was Varlya Tarvam). Harry had enjoyed getting to know his friend all over again as well as Orion, if in a brand new dynamic.

Harry sighed and, without a word, gestured and telekinetically floated the spare chair from his bedroom into his spartan living quarters so that everyone could sit in a rough circle.

"Tell me" came the weary command from Harry as he sat down.

"Will, it was the old prissies, they are just moaning again" said Hakk Fry referring to the progressive movement, the followers of Odan-Urrs refinements to the code, amongst the Jedi.

"What about _this_ time?" He paused, with an amused twinkle in his eye, before he continued "or should I ask what are they saying I've done wrong this time?"

"Nothing new...just the old rant about your ship" came the response from Arstonia.

"The _Patience_? Let me guess they are saying something along the lines that the Jedi no longer need personal starships. Nevermind the fact that it costs the Republic massive amounts of credits to fund the Order every year and my personal drain is nil, not even fuel". His voice turned cheerily pompous as he struck a ridiculous pose "Jedi of course should not think of such things any sort of attachments or possessions, let alone starships or anything useful".

"Pretty much. I wouldn't worry though as Grand Master Coven just rolled her eyes and patiently explained to the prissies that the Jedi had better things to do than bicker about one another. She also pointed out that there was nothing wrong with the old Jedi code and that, if there suddenly was, could someone please tell her what exactly she had been doing wrong for the past few hundred years" Hakk replied with a smile.

"I love that woman" said Arstonia.

"Don't we all" replied Harry " she is basically every Jedi's benevolent Nan by this point.."

"Not to mention basically the only reason the prissies aren't running rough shod over us 'less enlightened' is because of her" added Hakk.

"That too. Who led the charge this time?" Harry asked

"Master Myec did it this time...I'm sorry Will" Arstonia said even as her skin changed to a deep sorrowful blue.

"That's okay my former master and I never really got along all that much. I mean he is a fine teacher but still, he is not my favorite person nor am I his".

"Then why" began Hakk curious "did he choose you as his padawan in the first place?"

"Most likely because _Master_ Yoda asked him to" responded Arstonia then she added cheekily "or to stop Grand Master Coven choosing her favourite as a padawan".

"She hasn't taken a padawan in over fifty years. I doubt she'd ever start with me".

"I don't" came the twin voices of both his friends at the same time.

Hakk then added quietly under his breath " _my_ master would have.. If she'd got there first...". The other two didn't hear him however.

"Besides" continued Arstonia "it's not all bad Myec did introduce you to me after all".

"Oh yes he did. He was so disappointed in me when, not only did you fail to convert me, but I corrupted you to the old code".

"If only you would corrupt me properly!" She teased.

"Still" Harry said ignoring the offer as he always did "It's fun to rile up the prissies" then he smiled at his friends.

"So is that why your brother gave you a defender class ship that looks like it has not been touched since the Cold War? I mean apart from updating some systems and the blue and bronze paint job?" she continued.

"It's one reason yes. It's also the reason why both my tunic and undertunic are made of the best wool Dantooine can offer in the way of cotton, why my boots and belt are made of rancor leather and why my tabards, obi and cloak are made of tomuon wool. The expense rankles them and the fact that my brother supplies both my clothing as well as all the training droids for the academy at no cost annoys them all the more" was Harry's swift reply.

"You do this to annoy them?" Hakk asked incredulous.

"It's funny...to watch their faces... besides, they will get over it and it's not like other wealthy families of Jedi have not donated to the Jedi on the provision that their own relation gets full use of the gift first".

"But the progressives don't like it" was Hakk's reply.

"I thought we'd covered this" said Arstonia "they don't like anything".

"Besides they'll have to get used to it now as I have been offered the role of a junior assistant archivist. I will report directly to the Council of First Knowledge they offered, so they said, due to my interest in obscure uses of the Force. That would be the reason I have Anstasian patterns on the cuffs of my sleeves and edges of my tabards".

"Really?" Arstonia said even as, in the background, Hakk's face flushed slightly "That's very impressive". She leaned forward and winked "we will have to celebrate soon" Hakk's grey/green human eyes darted to the Falleen's breasts and then away narrowing seemingly at the thought of what such a celebration might entail.

Harry merely smiled, in his own way brushing that comment aside, before he continued.

"That will have to wait I'm afraid, the post is deferred for a couple of years, as I'm off to see the Galaxy and let the Force be my guide without any master for awhile. Don't worry Hakk I'm still going to practice my Niman, after all I'm still only about half way through mastering it".

"William Potter sans leash what mayhem" said his male friend, an amused tilt to his lips, his earlier jealousy apparently forgotten. "I am actually slightly worried that you might blow up your star system due to the fact that it wouldn't listen to the reasons why it should move".

The two long running amusements for his friends was that Harry was not (and never would) make a good diplomat and that when he would use his power to the fullest big things tended to move or be crumpled. Hakk _was_ joking however.

Harry did use his powers for a lot of trivial things, like lifting plates, levitation or juggling. Most thought that he did this to either test his limits (his aura, now unrestrained, was like a small mountain rivalled only by Master Yoda and Grand Master Coven) or to annoy the progressives.

While Harry could admit that they were both good bonuses the main reason was that he was truly enjoying the depth and breadth of his power. He couldn't really explain to others that the main reason he enjoyed it so was that he remembered, far too well, what it was like to work only with a trickle by comparison.

Harry smiled deeply as the conversation turned to more trivial things and relaxed with a good drink in his friend's company.

Later in the day he heard the voice that he was least wanting to hear.

"So I hear you are leaving for a while" said Master Tuspin Myec in his usual cold and clinical tone.

"Why my old master" Harry responded with false cheer. "Are you here to complain about the way I do things again?"

"Why must you always be like this?" Tuspin said sharply "so disagreeable".

"I am not being disagreeable at all" came the response.

"You throw away our teachings". Tuspin accused.

"What teachings did I throw away exactly?" Harry asked curious if his old master had a new thought on his mind.

"There is no emotion, there is peace. That code defines the Jedi."

"Odan-Urr's refinements" Harry said, the cynicism strongly threaded throughout his voice.

"It is an easier code..." began his former master, only to be interrupted by Harry.

"But not the only one… Emotion, yet peace". Harry gathered his thoughts and continued "You say that your code makes for easier and therefore more efficient training. I say that the older code, accepting emotion and letting it flow through and out of you to find peace on the other side, though it is harder to learn, makes for stronger Jedi. That and it makes for more well adjusted people and the argument between the two is as old as the revisions themselves".

"I can see that there is no talking to you" said Tuspin said dismissively.

Harry studied his former master for a moment with all his senses. Yes he was a wise and yes Tuspin Myec was rooted firmly in the light (as befitted a Jedi Master) to Harry it was a very shallow one.

While the Sith actively fostered negative emotion and used that to fuel their powers the original Jedi Code taught that you should allow emotion to flow through you, to understand them, accept them as part of life (a much harder job than simply trying to deny them) and find peace and serenity on the other side.

To his former masters view (as well as the other progressives including Master Yoda) the old code was too flexible when it came to emotion and, more importantly, also both too subjective and personal making it very difficult to teach effectively. They also believed, without conclusive proof, that it lead to more Dark Jedi. This then was the reason for the refinements present in the new code and why the progressives were so wary of those that followed the traditional code.

Harry and the other slowly dwindling number of traditional Jedi were dismissive of the idea as they were uncomfortable with trying to divorce all emotion from a Jedi's life and replace it with the, admittedly captivating, serenity of the light side. There was little balance in the new Jedi from the traditionalists viewpoint.

Harry personally thought that it made for oddly emotionally scarred individuals, individuals that constantly attempted to remove emotion from the equation, even though it was a part of life, and yet were strangely full of pride in their self inflicted scarring. He also thought, as did many traditionalists, that they were less versatile and less able to adapt as Jedi because of it.

"On the contrary I understand your point of view but, it seems, you will never accept mine." Harry said sadly. Unlike most Master and Padawan relationships their bond had never developed beyond its most basic form and a passable working relationship because, fundamentally at their core, they could never agree on this basic premise.

With a sigh and without another word the Falleen left once again despondent at his former pupils stubbornness and completely oblivious to his own.

Harry wanted to sigh too.

As he finished packing his bag his hand reached up to clip his Jedi lightsaber to his belt. It was more intrinsically his than his previous one ever could have been.

Like his previous one it was only slightly longer than standard (to accommodate his hands for better two handed strikes) and the emitter was still buried in the hilt. Where it differed however was in the fact that this blade, though able to kill, did not have causing death as its sole function. Instead of being matte black it had the silver sheen of highly polished metal inlaid with holly, yew, and oak all throughout the handle with a carved and padded piece in the centre for a grip.

It felt to Harry like this saber was the one that he was always meant to have rather than one bound only to the darker and most negative parts of his life. Where the other screamed only his hatred for those that hurt him this one encapsulated his desire for knowledge and his hope for the future.

Just above the grip and below the activation switch (the power adjustor was turn and lockable dial at the very bottom of the hilt) was the symbol of a crescent moon carved delicately and deliberately into the wood.

In short it was not only functional and a beautiful work of art but, every time he turned on the pale viridian blade, he would be reminded of Luna and hopefully do her proud.

He knew that he had to get home eventually and he also knew that it could take centuries in his time (if not longer) and hopefully only be seconds to her but, however long it did take, he wanted to honestly tell her that though he may not always do the right thing he had always tried his best. As for where they stood as a couple, whether she would accept him or not, whether they would survive his changes...he did not know.

Life however, he thought, was not life without risk.

His current need to travel stemmed from three things.

One as much as he enjoyed annoying the progressives, and he did though he didn't show it, they annoyed him just as much. He had heard similar platitudes and speeches that they espoused before, mostly from Dumbledore, ideas that were fine in the found that the world did not work that way and he had to get away from that grating condescension.

The second reason was simply that it allowed him to fulfill his duties as a wandering Jedi Knight and finally, perhaps for the first time in over twenty years, he would be seeing the universe without being encumbered with someone else's attitudes or ideas.

The final thing was not finding his homeland (his droids were still being produced and sent on that task) but instead it was the Sith. Though in his previous body he had been unable to destroy them he had been able to liberate over fifty Holocrons. Who knew how much knowledge that would keep out of Sith hands.

Added to that he was stronger now, where before the Force moved around him like an angry river (or a soft breeze without the amulet), now it was like being in the heart of a great mountain. At the moment no one was sure who was naturally stronger in the Force Harry or Master Yoda but what was known were that these two were the strongest of all the current Jedi by a very large margin (except perhaps Grand Master Coven) and Harry's power was still growing.

He knew however that the Sith were not gone and that (due to magic based compulsions) the Sith Lord, whoever that may be, would always pass down and wear 'Bane's Amulet'. The tracking magic only really helped Harry when they were on the same planet. If they were here however he would have felt it already.

Picking up his bag and having clipped his lightsaber to his belt Harry headed towards the _Patience_ even as he casually waved his finger in the air and the door opened and he left.

Like most Jedi, he mused, I am letting the Force guide me towards my goals.

Fondor

During Harry's meditations he found that he was slowly but surely tugged towards the shipbuilding world of Fondor.

Though well known as a rival to Kuat it hadn't developed the massive industrial ring around the planet that Kuat had in an attempt to keep its natural beauty. Instead the majority of rich natives had, by and large, left for greener pastures and Fondor had become home to more droids than people. They had embraced the idea (automation) as progress. Beyond that Harry personally knew nothing, he had never before visited the planet.

Harry landed the _Patience_ on the northern most continents spaceport of Kowen. Swiftly Harry left his ship and pulled his cloak tighter both around his face and around his body, concealing his Jedi Robes, as he began to wonder around the city.

Wandering around Kowen listening for the Force was a deeply peaceful experience for Harry. He enjoyed the surety of knowing what to do, he thought, as well as the gentle joy that came from connecting deeply with the light side.

Almost predictably the Force led him into the nearest cantina, called the Starburst, filled not with menial workers (due to the droid infrastructure) but middle management, a few designers and supervisors. So instead of the stereotypical catina with dancers, particular music and darkened rooms this cantina was more like a sophisticated gentlemen's club, complete with tastefully dressed dancers that would perform in the back rooms. This was clearly not a place for workmen but rather the upper middle management.

Harry sat on a stool and waved over a waitress, ordering his favourite red tea, scanning the room for anything out of the ordinary. Unsurprisingly a few people were giving him odd looks but he let them fade to the background, simply patiently staying in the moment and mindful of the Living Force.

Of all the things that Harry enjoyed about being a Jedi he knew that it was the quiet contemplative moments that he had come to love the most.

As Harry Potter he hadn't had these quiet moments often as something always seemed to get in the way. First what stopped him was the Dursleys, then it became the sudden need to adapt to the wizarding world in general, to learning at Hogwarts and then it was his Sith training. In contrast he enjoyed the peace of the Temple and the quiet reflection that it had encouraged.

The Force flared to his senses as in to the Starburst walked a man in perfectly tailored clothes, average height and dark black hair that was styled in the latest fashion. On his arm was a striking woman in a skin tight dark jumpsuit that, given the obvious similarities in features and ages, were most likely siblings or cousins.

"Get me a drink Zarandro" came the cold voice of the woman while moving towards a table at the far back end of the Starburst.. The slick black jumpsuit that the woman was wearing drew the gaze of many men, all of whom she looked at cruelly and disdainfully, it did not draw Harry's gaze however as he was more focused on her hands.

Seeing the pilot's goggles carefully looped in her right fist caused Harry to realise who these two people were. Zarandro and Zardra Vykas were rich and entitled. They were also well known thieves that were famous for dodging Republic Security Forces convictions and exploring the known Galaxy at their leisure doing only what they pleased and stealing what they wanted.

She was also famous for her temper her preference for, both for the modifying and the company of, droids and suspected murders. While he was most famous for his numerous drug habits (most notably Spice) and his disturbing skill in hand to hand combat.

They had yet to tangle with a Jedi though as theft such as theirs was generally unlikely to be assigned a Jedi to work the case. Unless of course the Jedi in question happened to be the first upon the scene of a crime or, as in this case, the first to identify the perpetrators. However when coupled with his warning from the Force Harry thought that their might be more to them now than just a simple robbery.

So that was why when Zarandro got both his sister and himself a drink from the bartender (his with a small packet of drugs underneath) Harry merely raised his eyebrows. As he did so he did make a mental note to to tell Republic Security Forces about the drug dealing and possibly that the twins were on the planet.

The Force however nudged Harry's senses, seemingly wanting more, so he focused all of his senses on the couple that had robbed so many even as he waited to see what the Force would reveal. Using his abilities to became almost like he was sitting next to the pair. Harry slowly closed his eyes both to avoid the appearance of staring and to better focus on what they were saying.

"I don't like this Zardra" came the voice of Zarando, her brother, which sounded unsure and slightly intoxicated. "This is not our usual entertainment" his voice lowered and sharpened as if to accentuate his misgivings " I just don't get the appeal."

"The appeal _dear_ brother" came her voice reminding Harry of rich dark honey "is in the challenge, like all robberies, not in anything else."

"But working for some else? We are not commoners working for pay" he almost whined.

"No" came the scathing retort "we are travelling for your drug habit".

"Please" came the disbelieving response " if it wasn't for my habit you'd just search for another way to get rid of your boredom….you're as much of an addict as I am".

"By getting rid of my boredom you mean robbing H'ratth?" came Zardra's amused reply.

It was only Harry's great self control that stopped him from falling out of his chair. H'ratth was a lush planet with deep forests and small beautiful deserts and had a population of over three billion but, most importantly, it had a small Jedi Academy.

"I don't like working for someone else" Zarando paused "especially someone I don't know".

"Think about all those credits and what you could do with them" Zardra's voice, though seductive, had a more than faintly mocking edge while speaking to her brother. He did not notice having taken his 'special pakage' moments before. As such the nuances of human speech were rapidly becoming lost to him due to the newest party drug.

"So weak" she muttered while Harry opened his eyes and glimpsed, if only for a moment, the naked disdain that she had for her brother and his habit on her face.

Harry sat confused. He wondered if this robbery was orchestrated by his previous master or it was another group that held the Jedi in disdain. It seemed that every generation there was another group that did so. Force knows we have enough enemies, he thought, mildly amused by the fact that he now thought of himself as a Jedi.

The strange part of this whole affair was not so much that someone would test an academies defences from time to time. Sometimes they tested for curiosity, sometimes for money and sometimes for robbery. The strange part then was why this particular academy.

H'ratth academy was the oldest small academy currently still in use and, for as long as anyone could remember, was both run by and famous for producing the a succession of gifted Jedi Healers (the current head of the academy was a Master Posar). It did not store any large amount of wealth or great works. The only Holocrons it stored were those that focused on practical healing using the Force and more than that the locals almost fanatically loved their Jedi Healers for all the help they routinely, not to mention freely, gave to them.

In short for Sith, Dark Jedi and everything in between Harry could think of much better targets.

After a long night of on her part and being almost comatose on the part of her brothers the pair began to stumble back towards the YT-1300 _Firebrand_. As they moved drunkenly through the dimly lit streets and made enough noise for six people Harry followed.

Feeling a faint warning from the Force and not being an utter fool Harry vaulted up the side of the nearest building, in the tightly wound streets it wasn't hard for him to move upward, almost bouncing from one wall to another until he was at top of the nearest building and perched on its flat roof.

Blaster shots screamed out into the early morning. Clearly the pair had not been as intoxicated as they had been letting on and were also, just as clearly, a suspicious pair.

If Harry could have gotten away with it he would have shot, from his custom and hidden launcher, a tracking dart into one of their shins. However they were both too hyped up right now (even if the launcher was concealed as part of his communications and hidden Sith tracking bracer).

Added to that the girl gave the impression of being hyper vigilant, Harry mused, even as he watched them look for a tail in the street below and her brother would react strongly to being hit. All Spice junkies tended to react that way the illegal drug just made their skin too sensitive.

After they had searched around for him for a while they seemingly gave up and moved towards where their ship was docked. All traces of drunkenness was gone from their limbs as their movement were swift and sure. Some might have called them paranoid but, as Harry was actually following them, it actually wasn't. That did not mean that Harry wanted them to know that however.

When the targets did finally reach their ship Harry found that the ship was protected by two HP-20's (commercial edition) that had clearly been recently tinkered with by Zardra. There was also a third tucked just inside the ship, thankfully, it was deactivated.

Harry had created the base model so he easily recognized the changes. The protocepters were different, which to Harry's mind, meant improved sensors. He also noted that the standard bodyguard armour was replaced by a versatile variant ( not as slow as heavy but more than the standard light that was included in the modular pack). One was armed with a sniper rifle and the other, much more annoyingly, had a heavy repeating blaster.

Between the two of them they also had all of the entrances covered and there was even a good three hundred yards of open space between the last building (where Harry was currently perched) and the _Firebrand_

Harry could charge, lightsaber blazing, and destroy the two droids. He knew that if he did that however that even with his force enhanced speed not only would the ship have more than enough time to leave but his quarry would be alerted to his presence.

His best choice at the moment then was to wait and see if the droids were leaving with the ship or not.

After many tense minutes it became clear that they were not as the ship was beginning to enter the final stages of preflight. Ordinarily he would have had to risk everything on a foolhardy maneuver at that point however Zardra's tinkering had given Harry an idea as it looked as if it had been done within the last day and therefore was, hopefully, untested.

The reason Harry had never tweaked the sensor package and the protoceptors in the HP-20's had nothing to do with the cost. The truth was that if you did so (at least in the commercial model) it tended to cause a very minor malfunction in their processors that, while harmless, did impair their ability to function.

They became able to focus on the smallest of sounds at a far larger distance and (because the HP-20's progenitor the HP-12 was a repurposed failed attempt at improving explorer droids and there was some left over subroutines that activated with that level of perception) they were compelled to investigate.

Hoping that she had not had time to find and solve the error yet Harry frowned and lifted a small piece of rock from near him and using the Force caused it to smack at great speed as far away from him, yet as close to the droids, as he could manage.

Sinking into the Force he empowered his limbs, moving so fast that he was almost a blur and he managed to throw a camouflaged tracking beacon onto the YT-1300 before disappearing into the night.

On Board the _Patience_

Later, while tracking their ship with his own, he was involved in a serious debate with Grand Master Coven

"...we still need to warn the Academy…" The Grand Master's face, even through the blue tint of projection, was as always serene and calm.

"Master please listen to my reasoning before you decide" Harry pleaded.

"Very well. Why should we not inform the H'ratth Academy that they are the likely target?"

"To put it simply master...we do not know what they are taking or why…"

"All the more reason to warn them.." she interrupted.

"Then the thieves, in turn, may notice and change their own plans. We still do not know who this is being stolen for assuming of course that it is a tomb rather than an artifact".

"So your plan is to let two irresponsible children break into an Academy instead?" she enquired "To find this mysterious buyer?"

"Yes master. It is a risk I admit however letting the theft happen without interference maybe our only chance of finding the buyer. If that does not succeed then we can still arrest the Vykas's but if we succeed we could have both them and their buyer".

"What do your senses tell you?" she queried.

"That I should let this play out" Harry was however willing to give up the decision in deference to the Grand Master and his tone said as much. Her reply, full of genuine affection, both comforted him and shocked him.

"Your senses are as strong as mine, if not as refined, my dear William" she smiled continuing with "besides you are a Knight in the field. It is your call".

Harry thought about his response for a long moment before answering

"Then the robbery goes ahead".

As the image of the Grand Master disappeared, his decision made, Harry spoke to the empty room "No risk..no reward… besides I always preferred to ask forgiveness rather than permission...though this time if it fails I suppose I will be doing both".

H'ratth System

H'ratth only had a single moon around a single planet and it was from behind that moon, hiding in it's shadow, that Harry meditated with his ships sensors and all of his Force ability focused on the _Firebrand_. Harry felt the barest ripple in the Force as the thieves succeed without the Jedi Healers below being any the wiser.

He was surprised when only a few minutes later the _Firebrand_ took the nearest Hyperspace lane towards the core. He moved the _Patience_ quickly to follow. Soon enough the pair of ships returned to real space and both were greeted by the unmistakeable sight of the Coruscant.

It wasn't the bright and shining upper city that the senate praised nor was it the Republic Capital that the tourists from all over the Galaxy enjoyed. Rather than the entrancing surface the _Firebrand_ headed towards the undercity of the great sprawling metropolis. Again the _Patience_ followed.

They moved further and further down the levels of the artificial cesspit until the _Firebrand_ settled on Floor 900. Most of the floors of the undercity were not well known to either the Jedi or Senate, it wasn't necessarily that they did not care rather, there were simply far too many levels to keep track.

Floor 900 however was different. To the average citizen of the Republic, if they knew anything about the slum of the undercity beyond rumors, it was a rare oasis among the floors of misery and filth. Strangely enough the whole floor wouldn't have looked out of place next to the Senate Building with clean streets and generally happy people.

The Jedi and the Republic however had strong concerns due to some very dark rumors. The rumors revolved around the floor being owned and operated by several crime lords jointly as a haven for pirates and thieves. Jedi and other security forces were not welcome here and they, as well as unsanctioned crime, were rumored to be punished with death.

No matter how many times the Republic or occasionally the Jedi sent exploratory teams down into the floor they were never able to ascertain who was in charge or the true extent of the network involved so they kept returning empty handed. It happened so often that eventually an uneasy (and completely unofficial) truce had fallen.

The criminal elite (ironically called the Council by the locals and also known as 'The 900') never left the floor and paid a substantial 'donation' to certain Senators. They in turn kept the Jedi from truly exploring the floor in force and finding out anything substantial about either the floor itself or The 900.

Standing on a rooftop overlooking the Vykas twins (with Zarandro currently carrying a suspicious briefcase) Harry knew that this peace might soon end. Not because of anything that he had done or the Vykas siblings themselves but more because of who they were meeting.

"Well fuck me". Harry whispered. Through his binoculars he saw a male Cerean approach the siblings. The man was at least ten years older than Harry's body currently was moving towards the pair with a distinctive limp coming from his right leg and holding a cane. He was also wearing an expensive looking (possibly Zeyd-cloth) pure black version of Jedi robes.

"Ter-Idi, the Jedi's most wanted... now what the fuck do I do?"

 _A/N I have reuploaded all previous chapters on as I have (mostly) gotten round the fact that it removes formatting like underline and italics by uploading each chapter separately in odf format… mostly for my own peace of mind and any new readers but...still… if anyone knows a better way please pm me..._


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: The Twisted Jedi

 _A/N: I'm not too happy with this chapter but after three rewrites I have had to move on. I have also had guests for the last week and the next week so sorry for any extra delay in copying up my handwritten story. On the plus side it's also enabled me to get a headstart on the next chapter..._

769 BBY

2,884 ATC

Coruscant

Harry only had moments to act before Ter-ldi escaped and so, while the trio were posturing, he quickly shot a tracking micro dart into the briefcase that was now in the possession of a rather controlling Zardra. He then quickly turned away down a side street just in case they caught any movement out of the corner of their eyes.

Bringing up his holo-communicator that was mounted on his wrist launcher he then quickly typed in the Jedi's encrypted emergency code. Once again, much to his chagrin, his least favourite Jedi responded though he could hear others in the background.

"Masters...I have found Ter-ldi" Harry simply stated.

"Where, Knight Potter, are you?" came the cold voice of Master Yoda.

"Floor 900 of Coruscant" His reply lead to a definite increase in murmuring from behind Yoda the other Jedi no doubt wondering how they missed knowing, in their infinate wisdom, that their fallen student was so close to them.

"That presents a problem" came the thin and reedy voice of Master Thom (whose fifth cousin just so happened to be one of the many senators who received monthly 'contributions' from certain illustrious individuals suspected of living on floor 900).

"For your family it is" came the tart reply from a distinctive female voice. I must have interrupted the Council giving out a mission if Varlya is in the room, mused Harry, still she's not wrong.

"Send a group of Jedi Knights we will" stated Yoda.

"No" came Harry's quick and biting response "I am sorry master" he continued though it was clear from his tone that he really wasn't. "If you do that then not only will he disappear but many people will die".

"So us do, what would you have?" Yoda's voice had turned distinctly patronising in tone.

"Arrest the Vykas siblings when they attempt to leave on their ship. It has a standard Temple issue ship tracker attached to it after all so it shouldn't be hard to trace. I will bring in Ter-ldi". Harry's response was sharp.

"The Council, you order, do not" Yoda reprimanded and Harry flushed at the rebuking tone.

"And yet" interrupted the welcome voice of Grand Master Fae Coven "as disrespectful as his tone was it is still our best option at the moment". The Grand Master looked concerned "Are you able to take him into custody?".

She had every right to be concerned, Harry thought, the story of Ter-ldi was a cautionary tale for every Jedi Initiate in the Temple but nowhere in the well told story did it say that he lacked power and Harry could only assume that in the last three decades his power had only grown.

Ter-ldi's history was slightly sad in some respects as it came down to an act of duty that, had things gone slightly differently, would have helped guide the almost knight through his trials and beyond. The padawan, who at one time was a shining example of the progressive camp, may have even one day become a Jedi Master.

However, as every padawan since was taught, that was not to be Ter-ldi's fate. Both he and his master, the Cerean Kal-Don, were trying to diplomatically solve a border dispute on the Outer Rim when they were suddenly assassin had predictably attacked the Jedi Master first in such a ferocious manner that Kal-Don had fallen back. Like any good padawan Ter-ldi had immediately moved to protect his master.

In the ensuing conflict the assassin had not only been killed but Ter-ldi had been injured to such an extent that, according to the Jedi healers, he would never return to peak condition. This meant that his time as a Jedi Padawan was over and the Jedi Service Corps beckoned. Ter-ldi also had two major faults. First, like some progressive Jedi and more and more in general, he had a strong level of arrogance and second he had a dispassionate, cynical and almost scientific view in his attempts to study the Force.

All of this meant that when he was told about his injury reducing his effectiveness as a Jedi and how the light-sided Jedi Healers could do no more to help him he had, quite naturally for him, turned to the dark side. He had immediately left the Order and disappeared from all official records. Since then he had rarely been seen though the rumor was that he not only actively practiced the dark side but used it to drain the vitality of others and to temporarily restore his lost functionality.

Needless to say the order wanted their errant son brought to heel especially as people had died.

Clouding his Force signature Harry tucked his head beneath his cloak and began to shuffle forward, arm outstretched and palm face up, in the universal sign of a beggar. Luck was with Harry however as he had only gotten two thirds of the way towards his targets before they broke apart. He had been unsure, if they had remained together, how he would have dealt with all three at once.

Harry couldn't help the nagging feeling that he was missing something however, even though the tracer was working perfectly and he was closing in on his prey, he managed to put that nagging feeling aside and the vague sense of wrongness out of his mind for the moment.

Once Harry was clear of the Vykas siblings Harry sped up his movements, trying to close the distance between himself and Ter-ldi, his heart was beating heavily in his chest and adrenaline sang in his veins as the Force powered his limbs.

Maybe it was down to the fact that he was so focused on closing the distance between him and his quarry or it may have been the fact that while he was pursuing Ter-ldi he was conscious, with every single enhanced step, of trying to keep both his face and robes hidden.

Regardless of whatever it was that stopped Harry from fully focusing on and then deciphering the feelings of wrongness and missing something became moot as two things happened at roughly the same time.

First the Force screamed out a warning like a wounded animal stuck with a spear and second a rather powerful looking black fist appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and knocked him to the ground, taking the air from his lungs.

That's what I missed, Harry mused along with the pain in a moment of clarity, the third bloody droid.

As a black metal foot came down upon his head with all the forgiveness of a sledgehammer he could only think with a touch of dark humor that, in the future, his sales team had better be more careful who they sold the HP-20's to as he was tired of dodging his own creations.

Then there was only darkness.

It could have been hours or days since Harry was knocked unconscious by one of his industry's own droids. Harry would have had no idea. The only thing that Harry was aware of, at least at first, was the blinding migraine that was caused by the foot of one of his creations.

Only when he was able to think slightly more clearly did Harry manage to notice a few things. First and foremost he had been fitted with not only the standard stun cuffs but with a Force nullifying headband. Finally Harry was also chained, forcing him to stand with his arms stretched above his head and attached to the wall, and barely able to move.

Looking around he saw rough stone that could have come from a hundred different worlds at least. Although he gathered that the structure wasn't new as the stones were weathered the only other thing that was in the room was a heavily bolted door.

He was still dressed in his Jedi Robes though his lightsaber and bracer were both missing though they had not taken his ring off as they clearly did not see it as anything other than an odd ring. That gave Harry some options especially as he noted no recording devices in the bare room.

Just as Harry was starting to formulate a plan of escape the cell door swung aside with a horrid screeching sound. In walked Ter-ldi and the Vykas siblings. Ter-ldi, despite his absence still wore traditional Jedi Robes. The siblings of course were still in the same attire.

Both men looked worried though for different reasons. Zarandro was almost telepathically screaming his worry due to the fact that he had never been this close to a Jedi but had grown up hearing their legendary stories all his life. Ter-ldi's worry was clearly due more to what Harry represented as a Jedi. He clearly did not want the attention of the Jedi High Council.

Zardra in contrast looked more like the cat that had gotten the cream (or in her case stolen it) possibly because it was _her_ droid that had managed to more than prove its worth in capturing a Jedi. He could see in her face that she felt vindicated in her radical idea that human beings were less than droids and to her this, capturing of the impressive biological specimen that was a Jedi, had just proven it.

"Hello Jedi" Her voice was so smug you could almost feel it oozing into the air around her.

"Convicts" came his witty retort.

"We are not convicts!" snapped the strained voice of Zarandro as Ter-ldi looked on seemingly amused by his 'allies' annoyance.

"Don't you dare make fun of us. You are the one imprisoned". Zardra snapped at Harry whose only response was to impudently cock his eyebrow.

"Enough" snapped Ter-ldi seemingly irritated by his companions rather than Harry" stop letting him get to you." He said in a commanding tone. He then focused solely on Harry and laced his voice with the power of the Force "Why are you here?"

"Oh you know" Harry said conversationally "I just thought that I'd get out and see the sights"

Zarandro moved forward and very quickly punched Harry in the face. Harry was tied in such a way that he couldn't roll with the blow but his only response was to check his newly bleeding lip with his tongue. His eyes dismissed Zarandro as nothing "Now _that_ was uncivilised of you".

"And you will get more of that the longer that you keep up with your cheek" snarled Zardra seemingly oblivious to the blows ineffectiveness as an object lesson.

"As much as I hate to agree with our prisoner it was rather uncivilised" Ter-ldi smiled winningly "we Jedi are made of sterner stuff than that" Ter-ldi ignore the scornful look that Harry was sending him "however perhaps it is best if you two leave us Jedi to talk alone". With that the two siblings shuffled out while glaring at him all the while he, quite predictably, smirked at them.

"What amusing children you employ" said Harry in a falsely posh voice.

"They are older than you" came the tart reply.

"It's not the years, it's the milage" deadpanned Harry to Ter-ldi's confused look that flashed across the Cerean's face. To his credit Ter-ldi recovered quickly however.

"Better than the stupid children you serve in the Senate" came his quick reply.

"So" asked Harry changing the subject "why am I here?".

"You as in a Jedi in general or you as in William Potter Grey Jedi, at least politically speaking, a prodigy in the Force and a complete annoyance to the Jedi High Council". At Harry's shocked look he continued with a note of pride in his voice "I have my sources and, even if I didn't, you are quite famous in certain circles".

"Criminals and Dark Jedi you mean?" questioned Harry

"How dare you! I am a Grey Jedi just like you" came Ter-ldi's response.

"If you believe that then the stories of your intellect have been extremely exaggerated" harry commented quiety and decisively.

"I just want to understand all aspects of the Force" Ter-ldi argued layering his voice, once again, with the Force this time with a sense reasonableness and affability. "Surely you can understand that?".

"Is that what you want? Someone to understand you?" Harry asked condescendingly while completely ignoring the relatively mediocre attempt at manipulation.

"Surely you can understand how narrow minded the Council is becoming?" asked Ter-ldi.

"Of course I can" Harry easily agreed "however I doubt that you kept me here for my agreeable nature".

"No. I am afraid that I need you to tell me all that the Council knows about me…"

"And why exactly would I do that?" asked Harry.

"Forgive me" came the cultured voice of Ter-ldi " I just assumed you would rather that, than become my latest test subject".

"I see… and you think that I would go for this because I am afraid of you? Or is it supposed to be because I object to the Council's viewpoints on the Force at the moment.." asked Harry.

"Of course" Ter-ldi replied increasing the strength of the compulsion still flowing in his voice "surely you have heard my story and know that all I want, apart from healing my injuries, is to form my own Council and explore both sides of the Force". His words dripped honey and oozed reason. "Surely that's not too much to ask is it?".

"Certainly not" came Harry's equally reasonable reply "except for three little things. First you are not a Grey Jedi at all but instead a dark one…"

"That's a matter of perspective…" Ter-ldi interrupted.

"Really?" asked Harry cynically "When was the last time you actively used the light side or have you become to entranced by and entrenched in the dark to even remember?".

"I have just been caught up in my studies and desire to fix my injury.." came the weak and defensive response from Ter-ldi and Harry's resulting stare was beyond disbelieving.

"Which leads me, quite effectively I might add, to my second point... you are full of bantha shit and what makes it worse" he continued over Ter-ldi's sputtered objections "is that you seem to lie to yourself as well as other people apparently".

"And the third point?" Ter-ldi prodded, through gritted teeth, now perversely curious.

"Oh that one is really simple….you are utterly batshit crazy...you know...insane?" snarked Harry.

Harry would always remember that instant with a crystal clear clarity because it was at that moment that the Sith Lightning began. Given the expression on Ter-ldi's face though Harry would always find it hard to summon much regret as it was just such an honest and disbelieving expression of shock that anyone would speak to him that way.

Sometime time later and after a great deal of agonizing pain the torture stopped. Though crude by manys standards, not to mention lacking in originality, Harry's relief was still palatable when the pain lessened as Ter-ldi stopped abruptly. The silence was deafening as the Force Lightning faded into nothing.

That Harry's insults had never stopped spewing from his exhausted and aching throat was an impressive feat all of its own.

"Interesting" Harry's captor remarked in a detached and cynical fashion "It's as if you have been tortured before though it does not appear on your medical records". The thing that concerned Harry the most about that sentence was the fact that, through unknown channels, Ter-ldi had access to his heavily restricted Jedi medical records.

Ter-ldi watched Harry's body closely as the scarred and burned pulp that currently made up his torso was slowly healing. "So resilient" he remarked "is that due to your families genetic manipulation?".

"Blow me" remarked Harry in his own succinct way. Not exactly the answer the answer you were hoping for, thought Harry, but I have no intention of explaining the intricacies or majesty of the Phoenix whose tears are in my blood.

"You do realise that I am starting to get tired of your foul mouth". Here Ter-ldi laced some regret in his tone "If only you would see things my way…"

"I'd become your puppet?" snapped Harry "I'll pass cheers".

"I see this negotiation is going to take longer than expected". The utter bastard even managed to sound sorrowful about the whole thing, thought Harry, the complete and utter prick.

Ter-ldi focused on the door for a moment and then opened it with a wave of his hand. In walked a smiling and obviously high Zarandro and he had a force pike in his hands. "I will have to leave you in the slightly less capable hands of my associate here as even Jedi as wise as I need rest" Ter-ldi smiled and left.

"My turn" came the intoxicated voice of Zarandro.

"So it's the monkey's time to shine?" came Harry's mocking voice.

"I am no one's monkey" Zarandro didn't scream but it was clear that he was swiftly heading into a rage. The thing about addicts, Harry mused, was that in my experience they are really easy to bait.

"Come on then...give me your best shot!" Zarandro advanced and as he was about to wildly swing the pike into Harry's torso he continued "using that thing? You? _Really_?" Harry's voice was deeply mocking and he sneered "Apparently the legends of your martial arts prowess are just that….legends…".

"Fine!" Zarandro dropped the force pike and started viciously beating into Harry's torso with such force that Harry felt, within a few seconds, at least one rib crack.

With a kick and a twist Harry managed to bring his legs up around Zarandro's neck and began to tighten. Zarandro's fist pummelled at him, they clawed and scratched at Harry vainly seeking purchase on his flesh, though thankfully his voice was muffled by Harry's legs. Harry resisted the urge to viciously twist his hips. He had no desire (nor was it ever his intent) to kill Zarandro and was therefore simply trying to make his latest opponent lose consciousness.

Slowly he succeeded mainly because, while most being focused on the stories of Jedi with their lightsabers and the Force, few remembered that they were often just as well trained in hand to hand combat. In fact most lightsaber forms could be adapted to unarmed combat. The fact that most forgot may have been down to the iconic status of the lightsaber and the Jedi themselves but, on the other hand, it wasn't as if they advertised that fact.

After so many years as a Jedi, not to mention being under almost constant watch by a progressive, Harry rarely used magic these days outside of occlumency. The magic was always there though, thrumming beneath his skin like a second heartbeat, it prowled around his core like a hungry animal waiting to be used.

One of the major differences that he had found between magic and the Force was that the latter seemed to use the practitioner as a conductor (the limit to which you could control the Force therefore relied more on being part of a circuit and your bodies natural ability to manage the energy. You were to an extent expressing a Force that was layered throughout everything albeit in differing saturations and therefore _theoretically_ limitless in scope).

Magic on the other hand flowed like thick treacle throughout the universe. It followed its own rules and lines and did not, aside from a small echo more like a spray from a waterfall than anything else, inhabit everything. Instead it caved out rivers, or ley lines, and pooled creating places of power along with creatures of wonder and terror. Most importantly (for this situation) it bonded with the animals that it deeply affected including that largely arrogant subspecies of humanity that called themselves Wizards. These Wizards, amongst other magical creatures, had a store of magic that was internal to them and therefore separate but recharged from the weak (or not so weak depending where they were) supply around them much like a battery with larger internal 'batteries' making for stronger Wizards.

All of this meant that when Harry formed the spell that he needed in his mind the band that was suppressing his access to the Force had no effect on his magic as it was not designed to stop him from drawing from an internal source of power. His ability to draw on the Force, by contrast, was effected because the band was designed to simply stop him completing the circuit to a very large degree thereby cutting him off from it.

If not for that band then Harry would only be limited by his genes and his training. His training would be important because, like all Jedi, Harry trained his body so strenuously in part to increase his natural resilience while channeling such power and to understand the feeling of being connected to everything and to ponder the will of the Force. It was not without its risks however as, aside from the dark side, exhaustion and over channelling (along with the physical damage that could cause) were a very real worry.

The spell that Harry had laboriously formed was released into the world and his cuffs snapped open and the first thing that Harry did was take the circlet that was around his head off and attached it and the cuffs to his belt. He felt the Force, once almost completely blocked, surge and almost roar before settling on him gently like a comforting cloak. If Harry had gotten into the habit of not using magic before he was now firmly cured of that detrimental inclination and with a wave of his ring hand a strong red light flew from Harry's hand and deeply stunned Zarandro.

Not having any better idea of what to do first, beyond trying to find his equipment, Harry searched his wannabe tormentor looking for a comm unit without success.

Harry braced himself and waved open the door quite effortlessly only to be confronted with two HP-20's. Both of the droids were holding blaster rifles but if there was one thing Harry excelled at it was thinking on his feet and he used the Force to quickly call the nearest blaster to his hand and, before either droid could react, pulled the trigger twice. With the distinctive sound and red bolt of a blaster both of his creations fell to the floor unable to operate as both had a hole drilled in the middle of their heads.

As both of the droids fell to the floor he finally took note of where he was. Harry was standing in a long hallway that had two doors, one to the left and another to the right, with a long corridor that curved out of Harry's sight. He opened the door on the left.

What greeted him behind the left door was an empty room. Though it was once a storeroom it had clearly been empty for quite some time if the layers of dust on the wall shelves were anything to go by.

Thankfully for Harry the room on the right hand side had more in it of use than the dust in the the left hand side one. Harry did not know where he was but in this room he finally found something that could help him as he found himself in a security room.

The computer in the corner glowed at him mockingly as no matter how much he had tried in the past, to Harry's chagrin, he had never been able to approach more than a basic competence when it came to hacking or slicing a computer. Even so Harry's fingers flew on the touchscreen looking for any information that might help him.

Ten minutes later, though he was still locked out of most systems, Harry knew that he was still on floor 900 and in fact in a well furnished apartment belonging, Harry assumed, to Ter-ldi. Given his rather lackluster skill when it came to computers Harry was quite happy to get a basic layout of the apartment and from that get a general idea of where Ter-ldi was thanks to the cameras that littered the apartment. Trust was not a part of Ter-ldi's world at any point anymore, mused Harry, master Yoda would be so disappointed.

The downside was that he still did not know where either his lightsaber or his arm bracer (more specifically a vambrace) was. This meant that he was currently on his own and unable to contact anyone for help. This also meant that, although armed, he was left feeling naked as he was without his lightsaber for the first time in years. He also had no clue exactly how many droids there were in the apartment only that they weren't showing on the cameras and given this, admittedly huge, apartment that meant very little. He finally did not know where Zardra was.

Harry once again cursed that he was not better at computers as he was sure that there was more detailed information in the database but, even with his method of rapidly acquiring skills and years of practice, he lacked the aptitude and he was still not particularly skilled. It was like that person that would have hundreds of hours of driving lessons and still, after many years, come away from their thirteenth driving test having failed. He did not know why but sometimes people simply could not master a thing and for them it was like a frustrating impossible rubik's cube that never seemed to work as well as it should.

For Harry slicing was his rubik's cube.

Still moving forward, down the curving corridor, Harry was grateful that though he wasn't able to get much information from the terminal he'd at least gotten a general idea of where to go from a partial schematic that he was able to see. Ahead, he knew, should be Ter-ldi's lounge and/or lab. Knowing my luck, Harry thought, that's where everything will go horribly wrong.

True to form, as he reached the door, it did.

Six droids came out through the now opening door, moving in unison and pointing their blasters at Harry, and once again they were some of his models. To make matters worse they were followed out by an irate Zardra Vykas and carried in her left had was his unlit lightsaber with her blaster now holstered on her hip.

It seemed, Harry mused, to be just that kind of day.

"Drop your rifle" she commanded which he reluctantly did. The weapon fell to the floor with a quiet thud and small rattle.

"Do you like my new friends?" came her condescending voice.

"What no words of concern for your dear missing brother?" came his sardonic response.

"Oh no! What have you done with him! I do hope he is not dead!" she theatrically moaned and then raised an eyebrow, dropped the theatrical voice and chuckled "I assume he is dead?" Her smile turned especially vicious as she continued "Your mistake is in thinking that I care about my dear brother... At all".

"And your mistake" countered Harry " was in thinking that a Jedi is ever defenceless".

With that, like striking cobras, Harry's hands came up coated with twin purple auras of power jumping around in arcs between his palms as he almost violently threw them forward. The Force Power known as Ionize moved quickly, the twin purple coloured streams jumped from droid to droid meeting in the middle of Zardra herself and she screamed in absolute horror.

The droids fell like marionettes with their strings cut leaving Zardra unharmed. In her defence however, thought Harry, Ionize or Destroy Droid did look a lot like the much more destructive and well known Force Lightning.

Of course Zardra herself was unharmed though she stared at him in absolute shock as he advanced.

"H-How?" Zardra stuttered. Harry could have answered her in an exaggerated, mysterious and mystic fashion and say something profoundly irritating but that wasn't really Harry's style. Instead he gently swiped his first two fingers across her forehead.

"Sleep" he whispered causing her to slump into his arms in a boneless heap. Now like her brother she was unconscious and, for the moment, not a threat to his wellbeing. He reached out and scooped his lightsaber into his hand. Harry had neutralized both siblings and took a deep breath seeking to refocus himself for seeing Ter-ldi.

Behind Zardra he heard a slow and deeply mocking clap. As Harry moved into the room he saw a mildly impressed looking Ter-ldi sitting on an expensive looking sofa with his feet on a beautiful coffee table. The main oddity in what could otherwise be described as a wonderful lounge where the tubes that littered the back wall along with a lab table.

Glancing at them and remembering his early lessons on Dantooine Harry could only guess that the Ter-ldi was trying to experiment somewhat along the lines of Malak restoring his health on the Starforge (though he clearly had yet to find success).

On the coffee table and next to Ter-ldi's feet was his vambrace.

"I must admit" said Ter-ldi " I did not expect to see you so soon".

"I'm glad that I can surprise you so much" said Harry his voice dripping with scorn.

"By your response I would guess that you have not come around to my way of thinking?".

"Because _torture_ is known to do that" replied Harry trying not to focus too hard on his vambrace that was on the table.

"Historically it has been known to work...after a while" countered Ter-ldi "You wouldn't even have been my first".

"Not after a day" Harry said with a sense of finality and missed the smirk that was on Ter-ldi's face.

There was a heavy and oppressive feeling in the air in the lounge at this moment and both men could feel it. It wasn't like it was a shatterpoint or any great moment in the Force. What it was could only be called a moment of clarity. Yoda, Ter-ldi and Harry represented three similar but different ideas about the Force that were, in the end, mutually exclusive. Yoda was against any use of emotion and using anything other than the lightside.

Ter-ldi, for all of his fancy words, wanted power and control. Worse yet he was becoming addicted to the darkside delving too deep and too fast into those treacherous waters without proper consideration and preparation.

As for Harry he wasn't against using his emotions or even the power of the dark side as long as the practitioner was able to find a rough balance to negate, or at least minimise, the effects of the latter (though he hadn't used the dark side in this body yet).

The feeling in the room then was not so much a ultimate clash between the light and the dark or anything nearly so melodramatic. It was however just as certain to end in violence as they both knew that no matter what was said or done in this moment blood would be spilled. Both were resolute in the idea that the others ideology was mutually exclusive. Looking at each others too relaxed poses it was not only clear that both men knew this but they were simply waiting for the right moment to begin.

"Are you sure that I cannot talk you out of this?" came the measured voice of Ter-ldi "You would be a great asset to the Grey Jedi Order that I intend to build". Ter-ldi stood even as his voice seemed to drip with a calm surety almost as if, in opposing him, Harry was being utterly ridiculous.

"I am afraid not. Besides" Harry mocked "have you not realised that the little voice trick that you do does not work on me?" He then continued with "However if it helps for clarification purposes you could not be called a Grey Jedi as that requires use of the light side". Ter-ldi gritted his teeth and was clearly struggling to control his anger.

"You are just as arrogant as Yoda and as close minded" spat Ter-ldi.

"If I am then so are you but, unlike you, I don't torture people" anymore, Harry added in his mind, hoping never to do that again but fully aware that he had done that and worse while under the thrall of the Sith amulet.

"You call me Dark!" hissed Ter-ldi "You know nothing about darkness. You Jedi are failures as you squabble over useless difference and pat yourselves on the back for being all wise all the while ignoring everything important around you. You believe that the Sith are dead that they are dust in the wind and nothing but horrid echos of a best forgotten past. You are wrong". His words were now spilling out in a hateful rant, his eyes glowing with both the dark side and his fanaticism "I am aware of the Sith as they are of me. We ignore each other for the moment but they are there".

At the end of the rant the sedate and easy going appearance of Ter-ldi was nowhere to be found. Instead he seemed to have worked himself into a frenzy, pacing up and down the length of his sofa like a caged animal, his eyes never leaving those of Harry and there was even a trace of foam in the corner of his mouth.

Without warning they turned their respective gifts on each other. It was more a battle of the Force, at least for the moment, than it was of lightsabers as the very table that Ter-ldi had had his feet on earlier rose to try and knock him down at Harry's command by taking out his opponent's legs. The battle, in terms of the Force, was fairly evenly matched because although Harry was the stronger by a very large margin Ter-ldi had more skill and finesse when it came to using his gifts.

The table was swiftly deflected away even as Harry moved as quickly as he could to close the distance between the two men. While he was doing this Ter-ldi assumed the classic Form II stance as well as spewing, from his left hand, a veritable flood of Force Lightning.

Knowing that until he truly mastered Niman (if he ever was going to) he would most likely be outclassed and overwhelmed by Makashi as that form was used solely for saber to saber combat Harry knew that it would be best to end this fight quickly.

So instead of rushing in as he might otherwise have done he used another esoteric application of the Force called Tutaminis and, applying that technique, he caught the Force lightning in his bare hand. With a loud grunt of effort Harry sent it back to Ter-ldi which blew the unfortunate Dark Jedi off of his feet.

"All that time that you spent building your contacts and studying the dark side" he mocked "did you realise your mistake?".

As Harry asked that question he was reminded why monologuing was a very bad idea against skilled opponents, as Ter-ldi's lightsaber flew out of the corner of the wrecked room and Harry had to dive out of the way to avoid being bisected.

As he rolled back to his feet Harry saw Ter-ldi, clothes smoking and torn, run towards him. Harry suddenly found himself exactly where he did not want to be, on the back foot, defending against a Form II master and feeling that with every swipe he was millimeters away from taking a killing stroke. He gave ground quickly while trying desperately to defend himself against the aggressive and relentless Form II bladework.

Harry knew that if this kept up he would die and he also couldn't be sure how odd his death would look to someone connected to the Force as no one like that had seen him die up close before. So he tried every trick that he could think of, he tore panels off of walls and lights from their sockets while ducking and weaving while he bought time to think of something.

Finally he had an idea and thankfully he had moved back into the room far enough that he might have a chance at pulling it off and he ripped up one last piece of the floor and hurled it straight at Ter-ldi.

Ter-ldi destroyed it, of course, however that really wasn't the point as while he was momentarily distracted taking care of the minor annoyance Harry managed to summon something else from the floor. His communicator.

Unable to spare the time to send a complex message all Harry could do was tap out his unique emergency distress code. Jedi would be coming and coming in force. The problem that now faced Harry was that their average response time in Coruscant was around five minutes and he actually had to survive those five minutes.

Sadly those few moments in which he had been distracted sending his message were long enough to guarantee that he would not last those five minutes that he so desperately needed. Lightsaber dueling was not generally a long drawn out sequence of attacks unless the two people involved had almost exactly the same level of skill and/or power.

In this fight, in terms of lightsaber skill, Harry was easily outmatched as Ter-ldi had clearly put a great deal of effort into trying to master his chosen form of combat. That was never more evident to Harry than in the first few seconds after sending his message as he suddenly felt a searing pain across his left shoulder blade.

He watched, in a sort of detached slow motion, as not only his hand (with lightsaber still in it) but the rest of his arm right up to his shoulder joint fell to the floor. The smell of burning flesh was pungent and clogged Harry's nose even as the tears in his blood attempted to seal the wound fully inside and out.

He did not have time to go into shock however as he found himself flying through the air only to land with a hard and sickening thud on one of the walls that had no scientific equipment on it. Harry was thrown so hard in fact that he was sure that he felt something in his back crack from the force of it. He slid down to the floor gasping for breath.

"Did you really think" said Ter-ldi who was now approaching the heavily injured Harry "that _you_ could beat _me_?" Whatever response that Ter-ldi was expecting was not the one he got.

"Jesus fucking Christ! Is being an arrogant sod part of your species genetic makeup or is it just you?".

"How dare you! The dark side of the Force is power incarnate, it is hunger, it is longing….it is _everything_!" Ter-ldi paused and then added "You have no idea do you? The Sith and I are not the only ones to admit this universal truth that the Jedi deny. If you think I'm powerful you wouldn't want to meet them".

"Oh really? Is there a name somewhere in your pointless monologue?" asked Harry in an almost distracted fashion.

"I wouldn't tell you the names of the Sith even if I knew them". He smiled bitterly "I will tell you the name of the oldest of us however mainly because you will never believe me". As he was saying this Harry began to concentrate, barely paying attention to Ter-ldi, knowing that it was highly unlikely that he would gain any useful information from Ter-ldi.

"His name is Set Harth". Said Ter-ldi, smirking and lightsaber in hand, waiting for Harry to either move or die. Harry, while concentrating, laughed quietly from his position on the floor.

"Set Harth is a myth" Harry spat "A tale told to frighten children. He would be almost 900 years old by now".

"You underestimate the power of the dark side". Harry shivered for a moment thinking about how he had lived as long as he had and if there might be other ways of achieving that.

"And you" came Harry's response, eyes finally focusing fully on his foe, sure and resolute "underestimate the power of the light". Focusing, Harry was not sure whether he used the Force or accidental magic but he managed to instinctively crush Ter-ldi's hand along with the lightsaber that was in it.

Harry thrust out his right hand (the left being across the room) and a soft golden light streamed from his outstretched palm and drifted gently. It moved like soft motes of dust in sunlight towards Ter-ldi who was seemingly frozen in the grip of the oncoming light even as darkness seemed to seep out of the Cerean. Its power seemed to grapple fiercely with the soft light its miasma swirling malevolently trying to combat the light.

The light pushed back at the oily blackness by forming a latticework that began to tighten around the darkness, containing it, and encroaching on Ter-ldi's skin. Then the net of light entrapped darkness touched Ter-ldi's skin and he disappeared with a muted flash.

"What have you done!?" screamed Ter-ldi feeling suddenly bereft of the Force.

"Force Light. I have temporarily cut you off from the Force". He would have done more than temporarily remove it if he could however Harry was not only injured but it was also the first time that he had ever used this power against someone. Harry would also like to stand up but the pain in his back and the loss of a limb was too much to be able to do that at this moment.

As Ter-ldi got over his shock and moved, as if to flee, Harry did have the energy to pin the now powerless Cerean to the wall with a wave of his hand. He did however do it much more gently than it was done to him.

Finally he heard the hum of lightsabers and looking up he saw a group of Jedi being led by his old friend Knight Varlya Tarvam.

"Hmm...the cavalry arrives...please be a dear and tidy up the place would you. He "Harry nodded to Ter-ldi "left the place in a complete mess.."

With that Harry promptly passed out.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Judgement of the Jedi

 _This chapter has been delayed for two reasons...the first reason and least annoying is that I am moving house on the 15th of September and then going on holiday on the 25th. This has meant that there is obviously a lot to get done. Second (and much more irritating) the new windows 10 update kept sporadically turning off my internet. This was only fixed yesterday by going back to an earlier build and stop any new updates from downloading.  
_

 _All that is to say that though updates will sporadic between now and the 3rd (ish) of October I have not abandoned the story and I hope to get at least one, hopefully two, chapters out before then._

769 BBY - 764 BBY

2,884 ATC - 2,889 ATC

Coruscant

A few weeks later Harry was both cursing and chuckling over the Jedi High Council as he attached his newly arrived (and Cadi produced) arm. The ambivalence that he was feeling had nothing to do with Ter-ldi's trial as that had happened a week ago.

The trial of the Jedi's most wanted was predictable in it's main outcome. Ter-ldi was found guilty of violating his oath to the Republic and to the Jedi not only for his experiments into the dark side of the Force but also his spy network that was rumored to extend at least throughout the Core.

The Council had then collectively cut him off from the Force and proceeded to turn him and his accomplices over to the Republic proper for trial on corruption charges and investigation into his supposed spy network and any informants he might have either in the Jedi or the Senate. They hadn't even done more than a cursory investigation into the possibility of another Jedi helping Ter-ldi as they had dismissed that concern out of hand.

Needless to say that two days after he was turned over but before any investigation could begin Ter-ldi was found dead of an apparent suicide. The Vykas siblings family were slowly, even now, extracting them from the Senate's judicial branch by use of a very expensive lawyer and, if Harry had to bet, a great amount of money spent in bribes.

All of that, though not expected, had not surprised Harry in the slightest. No he was cursing because although a few weeks earlier he had managed to subdue three criminals without killing any of them (which the Council prefered), one of which was a rogue dark Jedi, the prissies still managed to view him with outright dislike and suspicion.

To be fair to them the majority of the Council also viewed every other traditional Jedi in the order with the same suspicion, if to a lesser degree. Their suspicion had increased a great deal when he return and that was in large part due to the fact that he had shown knowledge, if not true mastery, of some very obscure and powerful Force Techniques (not to mention his use of magic which he still omitted from any report, verbal or otherwise).

What made him angry was the hypocrisy of it as, if it was a progressive that had performed so admirably they would be touting the success of their _clearly_ better methods. The fact that he was not led to them distrusting him more because it not only made a lie of the idea that their method was inherently better but also, he was sure, because he was being watched by some 'trustworthy' Jedi and they had no idea that he could do those things.

They also could not ask him where he had learned those skills without giving away the fact that they were watching a fellow Jedi and have their own actions scrutinised. So the suspicion increased and they distrusted him all the more.

The peace of the Jedi Temple was fast becoming a shallow thing with divisions between the traditionalists increasing by the day and this was mainly due to the Jedi High Council itself. More specifically the problem had to do with how the High Councils seats were divided up among it's members.

When Harry had become a knight it was roughly evenly split with the traditionalists having all five lifetime seats and one of the long term seats giving the traditionalists not only half of the vote but hope, as it were, that they could weather the political storm. Yoda, on the other hand, sat on the council in one of the long term seats and both of the remaining long term seats along with all the short term seats were both progressive and followed his lead making him the defacto leader of his faction.

When Harry had returned with the renegade Jedi in tow he had found that fragile peace broken as one of the masters that sat on one of the long term seats, Master Oblar, retired to devote himself to the mysteries of the Force. His place was quickly taken by Master Durvan giving the progressives over half the vote.

Harry did not find it a problem out of any sense of jealousy as the main benefit (at least to Harry's mind) to becoming a Jedi Master was studying restricted Holocrons but he had plenty to study in Cadi at the present time. He was also ineligible as he had never trained a padawan and nor did he particularly want to both because had no pull to train a particular padawan and also because being on the Council would put him in almost daily contact with Yoda.

The reason that it was a problem was because to gain your mastery you not only had to (with rare exceptions) teach a padawan to knighthood but you also had to have the approval of the majority of the Jedi High Council. This ment that in the last three hundred years or so fewer and fewer traditional Jedi had ascended to the rank of master let alone joined the council itself and it had even devolved, though only fairly recently, into almost an unwritten rule that if you were not a progressive you would not gain a mastery.

Harry assumed that the traditionalists on the Council had allowed this because the long term and short term seats were supposed to provide different views than the more conventional lifetime seats and as the lifetime members were all traditionalists it made sense, from a certain point of view, for the others not to be as it allowed for a certain balance.

Now however that was not the case and now that the progressives had a majority on the High Council it was becoming clear that they did not agree and were now, if they weren't before, actively blocking any traditional from a gaining a mastery. The only small mercy that traditionalists like Harry had was the fact that, at the moment, they could not deny teaching the old ways at all as that would require a unanimous High Council vote.

Sadly Harry could see the day coming where that vote would pass one way or the other.

The main reason that Harry was chuckling had nothing to do with the sad state of the Temple but rather his synthetic arm. The one that the Jedi provided was quite basic and it seemed that the Masters begrudged even giving him the basic synthetic flesh covering. He could almost feel Yoda's deep stare trying to impart some great lesson in humility upon him.

Harry however was having none of that and had learned from his capture that being unarmed ranged from being inconvenient to being disastrous. He was internally chuckling at his side step of any such hidden lesson in humility as he had ordered one immediately from Cadi. He had made sure that, from the outside, it looked like the one that the Jedi had produced but still, he found that the Jedi didn't notice the switch hilarious in its own way.

The internal structure was very different from the standard Republic issue. For one instead of steel or hardened plastic the internal workings were made of an alloy carved with runes to make it much lighter. It also had a hidden compartment that would release into his hand by way of a moving shelf like apparatus hidden in the underside of his new forearm the lightsaber that was currently hidden in said compartment which was his original Jedi lightsaber. Thanks to his skill in occlumency he had managed to convincingly lie and tell the Council that it had been damaged beyond repair.

While he was waiting for the new arm he had therefore taken the opportunity to create a new one. The new blade was almost identical to his previous one except that instead of being inlaid with yew, holly and oak it was instead inlaid only with holly and beech (Luna's wand wood) in a intertwining pattern and the blade, instead of being the viridian of his last, was a deep sapphire blue.

Needless to say after his capture of a rogue Dark Jedi, not to mention the Vykas siblings and the tenuous nature of the order as a whole at this present time the the faction of the Council that followed the progressives proceeded to withdraw the offer of a position as an archivist and proceeded to 'reward' him with a teaching position in the Temple.

The fact that this meant that his access to the more sensitive parts of the library would be restricted to that of a normal knight and enabled Yoda to watch him more closely and thereby limit (or at least slow) his mastery of new techniques. Thankfully though he might have a teaching position, like his previous offer, he was able to have it deferred for sometime under the idea of gaining more experience.

"Hey kiddo" Harry looked up from his wandering feet having found himself strolling down the halls of the Temple rather aimlessly after attaching his arm. He saw Varlya Tarvam looking at him quite bemused.

"Knight Tarvam" came Harry's very proper and respectful response. Her laugh rang out in the otherwise quiet halls.

"Oh stop that William" she said smirking at him. "Unless you are trying to emulate our dear Master Yoda?" Harry shuddered lightly at the very notion of that.

"Please, don't joke ...it pains me…" Harry fake whined and they fell in step with each other as they began to walk slowly towards the Temple Hangar. At this time of night the Temple was empty with the padawans asleep in bed as well as most of the teachers.

"So…" Varlya began "how are you dealing with your reassignment?"

"You mean from the job that I hadn't even started yet?" He queried "I'd be happier if they didn't try to pass it off as a reward".

"But don't you want to help teach the new generation? After all they are our future". Though she managed a perfectly innocent tone and a straight face her eyes twinkled with barely concealed mirth.

"Padawans are more your thing" he said amicably "besides we are not even talking Padawans in the main but rather Initiates".

"We were all Intiates once. I don't see the problem with teaching them besides, I suppose the prissies probably expect you to either outright refuse or choose something inconsequential like basic Force control lessons" remarked Varlya.

"Either way I'm no longer the poster boy for the traditional way. I either disappear to be lost in the background noise of the wider Galaxy or become sidelined by teaching" was his considered reply.

"So cynical" she teased.

"Tell me I'm wrong" said Harry pointedly even as her silence became deafening in the gloom of the very late night.

"So what are you going to do then?"even as she asked the question she smiled " I know you, you are just like your father and just like him I am sure that you have an idea running around that head of yours".

"I thought I'd visit Arthur" he lied "then perhaps just travel around the Outer Rim. I have no objection to being lost in the Galaxy for a while".

"I am confused. Isn't that what the progressives want you to do?" she asked.

"Yes" his grin was positively wolfish seemingly showing all of his perfectly white teeth "I am going to make them regret the idea that I should go wandering. With any luck by the time that I return they will be hitting themselves for ever having the idea in the first place". Harry's voice was almost joyous at that particular moment.

"Be careful. I'm one of the former progressives that became a traditional after…" she grimaced and a shadow of pain flashed in her eyes "Well after what happened to your father".

"There aren't many who do that" said Harry philosophically "and since Master Oblar gave up his seat it's quite unlikely to happen in the future".

"Now you are being too pessimistic" countered Varlya.

"Am I?" Harry said pointedly "let's look at the problem logically shall we?" Varlya nodded humoring him "When was the last time that a traditional Jedi was granted the rank of master?".

"I am not altogether sure" she replied, her brow furrowed in thought.

"I double checked it this morning. The last elevation of a traditional Jedi was eighty six years ago". Harry's voice was calm and dispassionate.

"That can't be right" she said shocked.

"It is and what is worse is that every single applicant for elevation was blocked by the progressive faction. It has only got worse in recent times as Yoda may not have led the faction at its founding after the death of Odan-Urr but he does now and he is nothing if not fervent in his beliefs". Harry took a breath as he knew she would not like his next revelation "It is getting ridiculous. For proof look at your own former master...Orion has been suggested for the rank of Jedi Master twelve separate times now and, in each case, his nomination was blocked simply by the progressives deadlocking the vote".

"Surely if they were this bad the Council would have done something before now?" she queried.

"They were never this overt about it before Yoda became a master...now they seem to be hammering their advantage home. Before you suggest it...I have no idea why the Grandmaster has not intervened...perhaps she wishes to prevent a sundering of the Jedi like the Revanchists during the beginning of the Mandalorian Wars...I really do not know".

"What can we do?" Varlya asked after a long pause to digest what she had heard.

"Nothing" was Harry's succinct reply. "At least for the moment as we have no desire to break away from the Jedi Order at the moment and we also are not sitting on the High Council or able to change policy at this time".

"So what now?" she asked "What is next for you?".

"I am afraid that it is going to get much worse before it gets any better my friend. As for me? I need to leave again, at least for awhile before I say something that I might regret about the Council's so called reward".

"Is that why you're going to go traveling around the Outer Rim? To get away from the Council for a while?" she asked.

"That's part of it sure. I also think that I can do more good out there than I can here right now" he replied his voice firm.

As he moved towards the Hangar and the doors softly opened at the slightest twitch of his finger he looked at her and then, quite quickly, hugged her warmly. "I am afraid this where we part".

"Be safe William, I have become quite attached to you Potters".

"As are we to you. Oh, by the way, you might want to keep a close eye on the Holonet". His grin was infectious even if she did not know what he meant at the time.

And with that soft goodbye Harry Potter was off to Cadi and away from the politics of the Temple once again.

Cadi

As Harry moved down the ramp he was met by the droid Hermione. Though with the appropriate amount of synthskin she looked human and was named after his oldest friend her features actually looked like an amalgamation of Hermione, Luna and the Patil twins.

"Master Harry" said the droid her monotone voice oddly comforting to Harry.

"Walk with me" he responded while moving towards his house. "Are things set up to my specifications?".

"There are eight training droids armed with lightsabers in the gym and the relevant Holocrons for lightsaber combat, with a focus on Form V and Jar'kai, have been removed from secure storage. Finally your belt,with a holster for your blaster, has been modified to include a clip for your lightsaber".

"Thank you Hermione" he paused "and my other request?".

"We are monitoring the Holonet and every back channel we have master" she responded.

"Good" Harry smiled at the blank faced droid.

"Master...you can't always run from the problems of the Jedi Temple".

"Advice? From you?" Said Harry mildly surprised.

"You are the one that set the precedent, barring being a droid becoming a danger, to disallow all memory wipes".

"So I like my droids with personality and it's biting me in the arse?" asked Harry amused and before she could answer he continued "Anyway.. I am not running from the Jedi so much as I have my own ideas and purposes… added to that my viewpoint is skewed, after all, there is no saying that my next body will be a Jedi".

Five Months Later

Harrys skill with a lightsaber improved in leaps and bounds as he managed to discover a natural affinity for Form V. His skill in Jar'kai after five months was basic to say the least though it was improving if only very slowly.

At this moment, in the early afternoon with the soft light streaming through the bay window, he realised that he had reached a new level of skill as he was managing to combat and hold his own, if not win, against three Jedi killers armed with single lightsabers.

What made them especially hard to combat was not only that their styles were completely randomised but their heuristic processors adapted to his attacks with every single combat meaning that he was always forced to improve and adapt with every single spar though he had limited their skill level. Once he had managed to consistently best them he would either up their skill level or add a fourth droid. Most of the time he had lost however he was slowly managing to not only hold them off but occasionally win so the day that he would have to change his routine was fast approaching.

Harry had an epiphany while at and his ilk wanted to pigeon hole Harry and other Jedi like him, they wanted to limit and suppress the depth of emotion on both ends of the spectrum to limit the risk of falling to the darkside while strengthening mental control. Traditionalist thinking demanded a more natural balance between the head and the heart than that and as, arguably, Harry's search for home was fueled by his strong emotions as well as the fact that his simple need to live and find Luna defined everything that he was he could respect and follow that thinking a lot more easily.

Worse than that, in Harry's mind, Yoda and his ilk wanted to stop or limit Harry learning new Force powers. Not only would that be doomed to failure (due to Cadi's collection of Holocrons) but, given Harry's habit of finding himself in life or death situations, it was actually more important to him to master the skills that he was learning (if he could) before he moved onto the next.

Most modern Jedi stopped at a certain level of proficiency, though it did vary from Jedi to Jedi as to how proficient, as they thought that the only true threat to them that remained were Dark Jedi. Harry knew better, not only did he know that the Sith were still in existence, but he also had Voldemort to deal with. In short, it was almost like most modern Jedi shaped their will and the Force into a hammer, while Harry was trying to refine his abilities into a scalpel.

That was not to say that Harry's training regime was without problems however as, no matter how much Harry tried, he could not master Force Light at all beyond its most basic form. Then again, Harry thought, few Jedi ever mastered any form of Force Light and it also had the added bonus of stopping any progressives from calling him dark before they could even begin.

If he could have mastered it then he firmly believed that his recent battle with Ter-ldi would have gone much differently. Instead the Dark Jedi was dead, murdered by persons unknown and any investigation by either the Senate or the Jedi had failed to uncover any hint of the perpetrator.

The only important improvement that Harry had made to his burgeoning skill in Force Light was that he could now move, albeit slowly, while using the power. It still, at best, only combated the dark side for a few minutes and tended to leave him exhausted for hours afterward. That was a far cry from documented cases of people that had mastered it as they had (albeit only once or twice) affected entire planets.

Quickly shutting the droids down (as they had been held to a standstill for a few minutes) and as he needed a break anyway he casually walked towards the lounge and, while wordlessly summoning drink with his magic and drying his hair with a quickly pulled towel, he found Hermione the droid waiting for him.

"Master Harry...I have news" stated the droid even as Harry turned to give her his full attention. "There is a planetary crisis on Almania. A portion of the local populace are in open revolt against their ruling class the Je'har".

"Sadly suffering exists throughout the Galaxy why does this particular planetary system concern me exactly?"

"There is wide coverage of the internal conflict which, though small at present, has both it's supporters and detractors eagerly watching the Holonet. Most do seem to decry the ruling class that lives in luxury on one of Almania's moons".

"What do they do that is so wrong?" asked Harry having never heard of the either Almania or the Almanian System before. In his defence though it was a rather large Galaxy.

"They sell their peasants into slavery and the caste system that is ingrained throughout the society keeps most in an never ending cycle of misery and hardship" Hermione reported.

"If this has been going on for some time why has the Republic not stepped in?" asked Harry.

"It appears that there have been several illegal bribes to key Senators as well as the fact that Czerka are profiting from supporting the Je'har and supplying their Home Guard with arms". Before Harry could think of anything to say to that revelation she continued "It has however reached the Galactic stage and piqued the Senate's interest for two reasons. The first reason is that the flow of rare Seafah Jewels have stopped. This is mainly due to the fact that they are found on another of Almania's moons Pydyr but all shaping, cutting and industrial or artisan infrastructure or work is based on Almania. Secondly some refugees managed to escape the planet, through a pirate blockade no less, and bring the caste system to the notice of the Senate in a public (and broadcasted) forum. The Senate, as is their want when things they don't like to think about are brought to their attention, caused a fuss".

"What are the Senate doing about the situation?" Harry pressed.

"Nothing" came her predictable response "they are being paid too much not to interfere and to, of course, keep the Jedi from interfering".

"The disposition of forces?" Harry asked.

"On the side of the Je'har? Around 1,000 trained soldiers, a regiment of their Home Guard, and further there are 1,000 roughly split between the Ailon Nova Guard and Czerka employed mercenaries. On the other side the Rebels have almost 5,000 untrained democratically minded(ish) peasants and lower caste humans. They are short on money, weapons and hope". Her eyes unfocused from a moment as she accessed more information from her archives " The Je'har are led by their Great Houses. The most notable houses are Furell, Daston and Rennek and have been for many centuries. The rebels are led by a man named Tor Dalon and while the Je'har are buying equipment and support from companies like Czerka the rebels are being aided by no one that we can find".

"What is the probability of the rebellion succeeding?" Harry asked.

"Though the rebellion is under six months old I calculate less than 12%" came the depressing response.

"Find out how many droids the heir to Potter Industries is allowed as a bodyguard and get Tor Dalon on the comm. Once you have done that prepare a suitable amount of weapons, medical supplies, clothes and food". He commanded.

"Yes Master Harry".

2 Weeks Later Almania

"Greetings Master Jedi" said Tor Dalon, a 5ft 10inch round faced human with eyes that reminded Harry of a deer, even as he walked down his landing ramp.

"I'm not a master of anything I am afraid" Harry gently chided "Nor should you expect the Council's support as, if I had asked, they most likely would have tried to stop me coming here".

"Even so Knight Potter we have full food stores for the first time in months and your medical supplies have greatly helped the injured and sick of Glanna". Tor was not exaggerating for effect, rather he was extremely grateful for though in olden days Glanna was a prosperous city it had been (through much bombing) turned into a rubble strewn slum.

"I am afraid that these six hundred droids are all I am able to bring and that is only due to this conflict being in the Outer Rim".

It was an odd quirk but, when Harry had set up the contract for his company with those greedy Senators of the Republic all those years ago, it had included a provision for any heir to the company to have a rotation of six hundred droids while in a dangerous environment. Strangely enough being on a discontented system of almost 18 billion did not qualify but simply being in the Outer Rim did. This was of course on top of his personal allowance of twenty five as William Potter rather than 'The Heir'.

His personal droids were killer's of course but the remaining six hundred were HP-21's that were quickly modified (by other droids) mostly on route to teach basic combat with a blaster rifle as well as fight.

"At least it evens the odds somewhat" Tor said though he did look worried. "Won't the Council or the Senate be mad at you….for your interference?".

"The Senate? No. They can no more be furious with me than they can with Czerka and, quite frankly, they are not in any rush to anger my brother or Potter Industries" Harry shrugged and offered a quick smile "As for the Council...frankly yes they will be but, quite unfortunately for them, the first thing that we did when we landed was boost your transmission strength so that every piece of your struggle would be sent to the Holonet and seen by the entire Galaxy if they were so inclined". His grin returned full force "Besides the trade agreement that defines the relationship of Potter Industries and the Senate, when the greedy Senators drafted it and at least in part wanting a larger 'contribution' as well as knowing my family's unique production methods included these bodyguard provisions for 'The Heir'. Of course it was also meant as a crude joke as well as an insult...it was never intended to be used".

"Wouldn't the Jedi simply order you away from the battle in private though?" Tor pressed as he did not want to lose the advantage that a Jedi could give.

"We also happen to have picked up six reputable war correspondents from the Galactic News Service to personally document all aspects of the struggle. Their only limit would be on tactical information before a battle...they certainly would have access to comm traffic" said Harry.

"You are an evil man" Tor joked "a great part of the Jedi's power lay in their benevolent reputation… if they were to order you away now they could lose that". The two men fell into step with each other heading into a burnt out building that was doubling as command quarters for the, as yet unnamed, movement.

"I may have also gotten these reporters from out of the way planets and forgotten to mention it to the Council" Harry added.

"So they have no idea that everything they say will be recorded?" asked Tor pointedly.

"At this moment?" none whatsoever…"

In this desolate place Tor Dalon suddenly burst into deep and very loud laughter.

About a month later the Council contacted him and, as was their wont of late, they did so with all the grace of a sledgehammer hitting concrete.

"What do you think you are doing?" demanded Tuspin Myec "The Jedi Order is not authorised nor does it have any desire to get involved in this conflict without Senatorial permission".

"The Jedi Order is not here in any military or peacekeeping capacity at all".

"Really?" came Myec's stern voice "So what do you call supplying over 2,000 blasters with vibro-bayonets attached?".

" _I_ am not supplying any arm at all Potter Industries is and so is Czerka for that matter. Czerka however are overcharging and supplying the other side. Potter industries are offering a heavily discounted rate". Harry did have the passing thought that you could call almost free a heavily discounted rate if you were so inclined and not be lying.

"So Potter Industries are arms dealers now? You must be so proud" The sarcasm in Myec's voice was so thick it was almost a solid and dripping thing. "Regardless the Council believe it would be unseemly for a Jedi to be giving aid, even if only medical, in what amounts to an internal conflict. It is therefore the order of the Council that once you have dispersed your _medical supplies_ " here he spat the words in disgust "that you are to return to Coruscant for judgement".

"Make up your damned mind Myec. Either you are annoyed that I am here helping out by giving medical supplies as any _decent_ Jedi should or you are annoyed that my family are selling them needed supplies at cost and upsetting your status quo" Harry rebutted. "As for your _request_ I will have to refuse on humanitarian grounds as there are many people here that lack basic medical care and will die if I leave". The best and worst part of that argument, in Harry's mind, was that he wasn't even lying as he was at the moment the closest thing to a doctor that they currently had.

"We are concerned that more people will die in this conflict you arrogant fool" snarled Myec whose emotions, even in the pale blue of the transmission, seemed frayed on the usually sombre face.

"Remember your own lessons my old master" responded Harry with barely controlled, but equal, vitriol. "You and Master Yoda are concerned with the thousands that may be lost now but without change how many thousands, if not millions, will die as this caste system persists to a (quite likely) bloodier end?" countered Harry.

"You would throw away thousands of years of tradition simply because you don't agree with it? Are you really that much of a child?" said Myec. Harry could sense his indignant disbelief even through the thousands of lightyears that separated them and travelling from the clean and bright halls of the Temple to the dank, dark and dingy comm room in which Harry stood.

"I would do anything in my power to save as many people as I can, for as long as I can, yet you accuse me of arrogance?" Harry's eyes hardened almost appearing to be stone even as his face became resolute. "You may be a Jedi but any relationship we had, such as it ever was, is now utterly done".

"You disappoint me" came the predictable and suddenly soft reply as Myec had seemingly managed to get his emotions under control.

"And you utterly disgust me by simply supporting a corrupt and abusive regime simply because it is the way things always were. A final point for you Myec..things do change and neither the Jedi, the Republic or even Yoda's way of thinking are eternal". As he sputtered trying to formulate a response Harry continued "If Master Yoda wishes to admonish me in the future tell him to come himself, in person if he has the courage, as I am tired of you. You are nothing to me now and I sincerely hope we never see, let alone speak to each other, again".

Harry then slammed his hand down on the receiver's power button cutting the conversation short though, sadly, not improving his mood.

Harry took a moment to close his eyes and center himself. For some reason that Harry could never fathom the calm and dispassionate voices of either Yoda or his old master always seemed to rub him the wrong way. Maybe, he mused, it was because the Galaxy was not calm and dispassionate and treating it (not to mention the living breathing people in it) like it was seemed cruel and heartless more often than not.

Regardless he took a deep breath and touched the Force, touching the edges of both the dark and the light and allowing all traces of his anger,resentment and frustration to be swept away by the mixed torrent of that river of power.

"Do you have a quote about what was said by the Jedi Master or the message relayed from the Council regarding this war Knight Potter?" asked one of the four reporters that were standing in the back of the shadowy comm room having gone unnoticed by Master Myec.

"You are here to report on the war are you not" came the calm question from Harry.

"Yes but a quote…" the reporter persisted.

"Then report it" said Harry abruptly even as he swiftly walked out of sight and began his new daily routine of helping his droids instruct the rebels in how to fight. It was exhausting and frankly, to Harry's trained eye, they were a long way off.

In the afternoons he spent his time either using all of his training and power to help heal the sick and injured or he was trying to feed them by either serving them food or using his abilities to help sense and then hunt down game.

That, more than anything else, was why Harry was annoyed with both his old master, Master Yoda and the Senate in general. Of course he knew that there would be more deaths on both sides at first if the rebels fought back more effectively with the weapons and armour provided by Potter Industries. That they would dare to try to claim the moral high ground when the defended a system that not only oppressed but often also sold members of their own society into slavery baffled him.

It wasn't just that though as, while in the grand scheme of things this civil war was incredibly minor, it was also an inescapable truth that no matter how many died in this war it did not take into account the thousands that had died and were still dying under the system as it currently stood. They did not see the dying children, the starving families that had not eaten in weeks, the people dying of simply treated illnesses and conditions. They did not see that all the while the uppermost class, the Je'har, lived on their palatial moon and threw away more in table scraps in a day than most of their workers ate in a month.

They did not see that or they did not care.

Harry supposed that he was becoming rather disillusioned as a Jedi, but then he thought, with all these people around me hurting how could I not become somewhat disillusioned?

All of this meant that, late in the evening, Harry was hot, tired, bloody, bruised and more than a little sore. He moved with utter exhaustion radiating from his every pore and all Harry wanted to do was to go to his lodgings (a small burned out room that only had room for a small rickety cot) and go to sleep. He moved over to the nearby open fire pit however, as it doubled as a kitchen of sorts, complete with a huge bubbling pot of stew that was a welcome relief to his grumbling stomach.

He took a bowl and ate quickly and mechanically. He was so exhausted and so hungry that he didn't even notice as the scalding stew burnt the roof of his mouth. In truth he didn't even taste it all that much and wouldn't have been able to tell you almost anything about it, certainly not what was in it, except that it was warm and filled his stomach.

Yet here, in this gutted city, he found himself just as at peace, if not more so, than in the Temple on Coruscant. The reason for that was simple and complex all at once..Politics. Here politics didn't matter, here he was not waiting for judging eyes or a back hand comment from a progressive. Here, in this battlefield, he could do what Jedi were meant to do in his mind without interference. Here he could heal, protect and teach. If Harry had had his way he would have, of course, prefered teaching them anything else but this was a war zone after all.

So it was with a sense of weary purpose then that he began to move slowly towards his as he was and the food was settling in his stomach and with sleep starting to blur his vision someone called his name however.

"Master Jedi! Master Jedi!" came the voice of a small dirty boy. At this time of night and as tired as he was he couldn't remember the boy's name, nor drudge it from his memory using occlumency. Let alone give his oft repeated refrain that he wasn't a master at all. "Commander Dalon requests your presence in the Command Tent".

Harry smiled wearily at the boy and thanked the boy and began to move directly there. As he walked, like any Jedi worth their salt, he drew upon the healing energies of the light side to heal and rejuvenate himself and force tiredness to slip away. He had lost count of the amount of times that he had done this in recent memory and, though there would be a price, there was no time for him to rest at the moment.

In a few short minutes Harry entered the command tent. It was nearly empty with the sole items in the tent being a small table, two chairs and a bottle of whiskey with two glasses. In one of the chairs sat Tor Dalon exhaustion radiating in waves from the hard working man.

"Sit down" said Tor wearily.

Harry did as he was asked and eyed his friend critically for a moment before seemingly coming to the obvious conclusion with the comment.

"You look exhausted my friend. Have you even slept today?" queried Harry.

"You're one to talk. How much sleep have you had in the last week? Four hours? Five?" Tor responded

"I'm good. Jedi are trained to do without much sleep when necessary" the Sith even more so, though in a different fashion, Harry added in his head.

"We have a problem" Harry merely raised an eyebrow as they had a lot of problems. "To be frank it's the largest problem which is always the same Je'har damned problem..".

"Time" finished Harry ruefully while pouring them both a drink.

"It's always time at the moment. We have the Ailon Nova Guard and the Mercs coming to stop us now. That's a thousand well equipped trained killers against five thousand servants, slaves and farmers with barely enough weapons for half of them. According to your trainers, not only do we need to wait for more equipment that won't be here for at least a month but, the army needs at least another six months before they can stand in line and do the most basic of maneuvers. Our best estimates are that they will need another year before they can fight properly".

Tor picked up his glass and swallowed some of the burning liquid that was almost laughably called whiskey. "In short if we fight now we will die".

"Can you not retreat into the hills, regroup and drum up support from among the populace?" asked Harry.

"Not in the time remaining. Not without leaving a trail" summed up a glum Tor.

"Where are they now?" asked Harry.

"The Ailon Nova Guard and Czerka do not enjoy each other's company and they also want to entrap us. The Nova Guard are coming down from the north and they are both the best trained of the two and the closest being only five days away from us. Czerka in contrast are coming from the south and are currently eight days out" said Tor.

"East and West?".

"Sea and mountains respectively. We couldn't get through the mountains in twelve days let alone eight".

"What route are they taking?" asked Harry.

"We are in a hidden vale that is hard to see and easy to defend or at least it would be if we had the trained men. The Nova Guard are coming through the Green Canyon and Czerka is coming up through the Shallow Pass" explained Tor.

"Show me" commanded Harry.

Tor brought out a map from underneath his back pocket and pointed out not only the Green Canyon and the Shallow Pass but where the rebels vale was as well as the estimated positions of their enemies. Harry traced the route of the Nova Guard with his finger and grinned.

"The Nova Guard will be at the Canyon in three days" said Harry before continuing " and if I hurry I can be there in two. I will take the first two droid companies (half a battalion) and stop the Novas. With any luck I'll be back here with them to help fight Czerka".

"And if you're not? Not to be defeatist but what happens if you fail?".

"Then you, with your five thousand farmers, will be a day behind ready to attack the disorganized and battle weary soldiers and then you escape beyond their trap with your men. Believe me the only way that happens is if I am dead and Jedi do not die easy". Seeing Tor's nod Harry continued "If I succeed my droids and I can link up with you and turn and destroy Czerka. I won't lie...your losses are likely to be high but it is your best chance to succeed". Tor looked at Harry skeptically and couldn't help but say " A simple plan...but the best ones often are" before he added " my friend you do realise that you only get one shot at stopping them. The rest of their route is to exposed for an ambush and Czerka has no such vantage for attack along their route".

"I know. I'm very glad that we have the anti-aircraft guns up and running or they wouldn't be coming on foot but rather bombing us into oblivion" stated Harry.

"How are you going to take out the Nova Guard?" asked Tor curious.

"Have you ever heard of a man named Viriathus?" asked Harry knowing that their was no possible way that the man could have done. As Harry said that his mind was already wondering down the road to victory thinking speculatively of the Phrik alloy panels in his ship. Seeing his companions blank look Harry shook his head all the while remembering hiding in the library and reading anything that he could to avoid his relatives in Surrey. "Nevermind. I will leave tonight and hopefully see you in four days".

Three Days Later

As the midday sun beat down on the lush and aptly named Green Canyon a battalion of the famous mercenaries called the Nova Guard entered the Canyon two abreast as the narrow Canyon hugged the bottom of a natural slope on one side and a hard unforgiving five hundred foot drop on the other.

Around two thousand years before Harry was born Viriathus had managed to defeat the Roman army with a very simple and effective tactic. Harry was about to attempt to repeat that feat in the same way.

Harry looked at his droids and nodded who, unlike the double rank of the Ailon Nova Guard, were in single file. They locked their makeshift shields together (fashioned hurriedly from the interior panels of Harry's ship). They had also stuck the light dirt and some grasses on both their chassis (for camouflage) and on the shields themselves (so they could lay behind them at an angle). Harry slowly moved his shield towards its nearest mate, locking it in its place in line.

The droids and Harry were laying almost flat and the shield wall was both roughly camouflaged and complete as well as laying it just in front of them. Time seemed to slow on the hot and muggy day as the partially hidden troop waited for the line of approaching Nova Guard to reach the appropriate position.

Eventually, much like Viriathus before him, Harry signalled his droids and they all with one hand drew vibroknives while picking up the shield with the other. Then Harry and his droids charged with vibroknives held high above the shield but angled at forty five degrees. Harry's lightsaber flared to life in the same fashion even as the now running droid picked up speed.

The Ailon Nova Guard turned and was caught flat footed by the running wall of death that the droids and Harry had become. They were however one of the most highly regarded mercenary units in the Galaxy and so many did managed to draw their neurotoxin covered swords known as the Eklot. Some even drew blasters and ineffectually fired at the wall coming towards them.

It did not do them much good however as, when the moving wall crashed into the front rank with an almighty shudder and bang, they found that not only did their neurotoxins not work on droids but that the strength of said droids was prodigious to say the least. They began to, quite quickly, become pushed further and further back towards the canyon edge. The few that were able to try and fight back either fell to the vibroknives or Harry's lightsaber.

Soon they began to panic knowing that certain death awaited them at the bottom of the canyon and hearing either the heavy breathing of their fellows, high and fast as well as panicked, in their ears behind them or feeling the earth slowly slip beneath their feet and knowing that while they could not look back (all of their focus had to be pushing forward after all) the next step could well be their last.

The Nova Guard was doomed. Harry knew it and so did the Guard themselves but, they did not break and fall to their knees as they were professional soldiers to the end. It took over an hour for the slow push and bloody knives to do away with the small fragment of the Ailon Nova Guard that was on Almania.

The shield wall tactic however was a huge success as though the Guard was slain to a man Harry lost only five droids in the entire conflict.

Soon after (and with a short power nap) Harry had turned to meet the approaching rebels and explained to Tor what he had done. Tor's eyes had widened and his face had paled considerably while gaining a frown. This had only confused Harry.

"What?" Harry said with a matching frown of his own "why are you so upset?".

"It wasn't really a battle was it?" Tor replied moodily.

"Dead is dead Tor" Harry said dismissively "All war is distasteful. If you and your rebels are going to survive, let alone win, you are going to have to do many distasteful things before this is over. Where your personal morals draw the line…. that I cannot help you with. Be aware however that you will not just be deciding for yourself but your whole movement".

"So I should just do whatever it takes to beat the Je'har is that it? I should just forget all about my honour and the honour of the people who serve with me?" questioned Tor.

"No. If you want my advice I would say that too few morals are just as bad as too many. As for where to actually draw the line?" Harry shrugged "I am not you nor would I wish to be. I will say that the Je'har have been treating you almost like an amusement with the mercenaries as their own personal hunting dogs. Be glad that they have treated you like that as, when the full might of the guard comes, you may have actually had enough time to build a force that could stand a chance".

Harry began to walk back towards their camp with his droids forming behind him, a few carrying the damaged parts of their brothers for repair, calling back over his shoulder "If you are concerned with honour? Honour the dead by saving as many of the living as you can".

Tor looked at the back of the man that he knew as William Potter shaking his head and his eyes sorrowful. Tor knew that he had to save his people and he also knew, from their long discussions over planning the next encounter or skirmish, that his friend was not a bad man. Still he hoped that neither he nor his friend lost too much of themselves in this war and he hoped that his home would weather the storm.

Within the week Harry, his droids and a few hundred armed rebels faced Czerka in a running skirmish in woodland and though the rebels did lose a few men they were victorious. Once they had won they removed the weapons from the dead and redistributed them amongst the army.

Their greatest asset at the moment was being mobile and the downside of that was that they simply had no firm idea when the next Potter funded cargo ship could brave what was rapidly becoming a hostile approach before delivering supplies.

So they looted the dead and they tore down rich second caste houses to buy things from a rapidly expanding black market though, to their credit a cargo ship on behalf of Potter Industries seemed to get through on average around once a month.

After Czerka's defeat Tor, Harry and the rebels removed strategic and useful parts from the _Patience_ cannibalising and disabling the ship before moving deeper into the hills and mountains. They took everything they could carry and, of course, the mobile anti air turrets on floating sleds came with them as well.

Over the next four years rebel sentiment caused a swell in numbers with the formally tiny group eventually numbering just over 140,000 men and women and it was still growing by the day. It was around that time that the rebels felt secure enough to not only try and take back their planet but also, possibly, take the fight truly to their oppressors.

The Galaxy watched with increasing interest as the reports kept coming from inside the conflict itself no matter what the Je'har tried to do to stop them. There were weekly images of workhouses being freed where people of the lower castes were worked and whipped to death in a fashion so horrid that appalled many, even some Hutts looked uncomfortable. There were true and documented account of the rebellions doctors, often led by Knight Potter, trying to save as many of those unfortunates as they could.

The de facto leaders of the rebellion Knight Potter and _General_ Dalon were often seen on the Holonet not only helping the sick and injured as much as they could but playing key roles in the decisive battles of the rebellion. Often the impulsive but brilliant insights of Knight Potter or the calm methodical nature of General Dalon turned the tide of a battle.

The rebels and, by extension the Holonet, had even given them nicknames almost like beloved characters from a children's book rather than the hard fighting life and death warriors that they were. They called Dalon The Wall as, it was whispered, that where The Wall stood the enemy broke and ran against his unbreakable will.

Harry on the other hand was simply called the Jedi Lord. Even now centuries after the Army of Light stories were still told of the kind yet grim faced Jedi who fought across the Galaxy against evil and, in many cases, effectively ruled the planets they saved with a benign hand.

It wasn't that either man encouraged this but, after four years of fighting and beating the odds, their reputations were slowly becoming legendary whether they wanted them to or not.

Thanks to this, not only was recruitment increasing for the rebels but the goodwill that the Je'har had in the Senate was further and further eroded with some now openly calling for the unconditional surrender of the Je'har due to human rights atrocities or, in the alternative, a peace treaty that removed them from power. Some even wondered why there was only one Jedi there, given all that they were seeing, the Council however was silent and repeatedly refused to be drawn into any debate regarding Almania.

Sadly the ruling elite simply hired more mercenaries, activated the entirety of the Home Guard to the threat and by using their ships and personnel had managed to cut off all air traffic at the end of the third year, if not communications, between Almania and the rest of the Galaxy.

The Civil war for Almania was coming to a head.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12: The Unapproved War

 _A/N: This is probably my last chapter till late september/early october as I am both moving (in two days) and then soon after going on holiday.I hope everyone enjoys what I have written.  
_

764BBY

2,889 ATC

Almania/Auyemesh

Kalo Lak sighed in annoyance. The twenty eight year old man smoothed his pristine uniform even as his deep red tunic marked him as one of the Je'har Home Guard, often called Blood Shirts by their detractors, and rubbed his forehead in frustrated resignation as he remembered the last four years in comparison to the rest of his life.

He remembered his early childhood and how he having been born into the Second Caste (of five) did have it's privileges. His early memories were tinged with love as he remembered his parents and his friends. He had always known however that those privileges were tempered with the knowledge of his duty.

As he was not born of the First Caste he knew that his was born to serve them and he also looked forward to joining the army, as all of his Caste would, and crushing their enemies while protecting the enlightened rule that the ruling families of the Je'har maintained. He would, then and now, fight to the death for it if necessary and he left home to start his training at age twelve.

Those were good years, he thought, full of friends and fun while they were learning the necessities of their craft.

After basic physical conditioning he had been assigned to the prodigious Stonian Military Academy in the middle of the Capital and which was down the street from the center of the true government and in his opinion the center of the Galaxy, that was embodied by the Great Dome of the Je'har.

The Dome was more than just a simple Senate or a Parliament, its architecture spoke to the endurance of the Je'har. Its ageless columns supported their greatest leaders amongst the First Caste, it was nestled in the heart of the City and was surrounded not only by the Academy but by some of the greatest museums ever to exist full of priceless art, rich history and lessons for anyone wishing to be enlightened ready to be taught.

He had excelled at the Academy and he had quickly risen through the ranks, first as a trainee and then later in the field. He had taken the lessons espoused by his instructors to heart. He, and others of the Second Caste, were to be the sword attacking the Je'hars enemies and they were to be the shield protecting not only the First Caste but those poor idiotic souls that were of the lower Castes.

Rising from the rank of private to a colonel had been the highlight of his career to that point. He had never dreamed that he would have managed to rise so high and Kalo remembered all the feelings of joy and elation when his rank was bestowed upon him.

That was five years ago and, like anything, those wondrous days could not last as since then everything had fallen apart for the Je'har.

At first it had been little things, things that if you weren't paying attention could easily slip your notice, like lightning raids by malcontents in the Fourth and Fifth Castes for food and medical supplies.

The Third Caste (which was pretty evenly split between the Security Forces and artisans) was not concerned as even among the enlightened peoples of Almania there were misguided troublemakers and they were for the most part harmless.

"If they were not then the traitors would be shuffled along the slave market" remarked one nameless Security Officer at the time "After all it has been a year or so since we have sold any traitors or people from the Fifth Caste and the one thing they have in common? They all breed like rabbits" he had said with a grin.

Kalo wondered how much the nameless man who reported to him would have grinned if he had known the true endgame of these rebels. He also wondered (if only briefly) where that man was now and silently concluded that, like the majority of the Security Force, he was probably dead in a ditch somewhere.

The little things had progressed swiftly into more troublesome issues, Kalo remembered with deep bitterness, and where they had at first seemed harmless they soon became anything but.

Kalo looked out at the Auyemesh skyline trying to regather his wandering thoughts.

Once that view would have left him with a deep sense of pride and accomplishment as only the most distinguished officers ever got to live on any part of Auyemesh. It was the greatest reward for their lifetime of service to be able to live on the idyllic moon of the First Caste and, though they did not live with them, they could seek out and learn from the best and the greatest that the Je'har had to offer.

That was how it used to be.

All of that had changed however because, quite frankly, the Security Forces had not done their job well enough and had themselves become targets of attacks that managed to at first impede and then cripple them. This had allowed the malcontents to blossom into a fully fledged guerrilla force and then later a true rebellion.

A rebellion under the command of Tor Dalon.

Kalos mind raged at the mere idea of the man even as his body, due his years of military training, remained perfectly at ease. Due to the man being of the Fifth Caste leading an army at all let alone being the slightest bit successful at it as far as he was concerned.

Instead Dalon should have been thankful to even be breathing, he thought, after all the Fifth Caste dealt only with the dead and waste and as such should have felt privileged to even be within the same Galaxy as their betters.

That was more than he could say for some of them now as the Home Guard had killed quite a few of them in the last few years but he knew that the cost was too high. Not right away of course as, at first, it had been like sport hunting the rebels like frightened rabbits running in the long grass and it had almost seemed too easy in those first six months.

Then came Cade Benek.

To think that such an idiot had not only managed to somehow graduate from the same prestigious Academy as him but was the cause of all this trouble. It was Kalos private opinion that some half forgotten and malicious God from ancient times had caused the feckless, argumentative and idiotic man to be born in the prestigious Second Caste and be the cause of so much strife.

The idiot (and that was the only epithet that Kalo could give him now in his mind) had taken a break from hunting and taken a fancy to Dalon's wife which, while not something that Kalo had ever partaken of, was Benek's right as a Second.

No what inspired Kalo's contempt was not only the fact that he had arrogantly demanded it, as if they would just simply cower at his feet immediately and thank him for the privilege, but he had also demanded the use of Dalon's younger sister as well.

Never mind the fact that that Dalon's sister was barely ten or that he had arrogantly stormed into the man's home while doing so. Those little irrelevancies of fact seemed inconsequential to Benek. Worse when Dalon had protested Benek had decreed that Dalon should have the privilege of watching him take his pleasure on the two women even as two of his men had moved to hold Dalon down.

Now Kalo did not begrudge the idiotic Benek the right to do with the lowest Caste as he pleased. He had been after all, like Kalo himself was, their better in every way by virtue of his birth.

Decorum must be maintained however and such things were, in the main, handled in private as you simply did not give in to your pleasures in public with the lower Castes watching. For more...exotic...requirements (such as an underage girl) it might have also been best to soothe ruffled feathers with credits rather than make a man watch the forrnication.

That lack of forethought and decorum had been the idiots undoing, thought Kalo, and the cause of all of their current problems.

Dalon had, seemingly through force of will alone, broken free of the of the men holding him but not until Benek was done with Dalon's wife and was becoming forcefully entwined with his younger sister. Dalon had managed to grab a blaster and then a knife from his captors and proceeded to kill the hardworking guards that were simply following the orders of a foolish man.

They had managed to kill his wife in the crossfire but it seemed that with the rape and death of his wife (really what else was she good for?) and the near rape of his sister Dalon had vented his anger at his betters in a truly despicable way.

He had used the stun setting on his blaster to subdue his enemies. This allowed him the time to both secret away his sister and then tie up the idiot. He had proceeded to perform (at least according to their few spies), in the depths of his dark and twisted anger no doubt, horrors upon the man with many tools which culminated in cutting off his manhood with a red hot knife and then forcing the idiot to eat it before he was finally allowed to die.

Worse than that he had promptly fled with his sister and joined the rebels rather than wait and face justice like any true citizen should have done.

The guard had suffered a further setback because the people who had witnessed the attack (they had hidden like rats before the torture began) had called him a liberator, as if the evil thing that he had done had been in some way _right_.

Later that liberator had managed to rise meteorically through the ranks of the thrice accursed rebels and eventually became the threat that he was today. Still many things could have been different if only he (and his superiors in the Guard) had been allowed more men.

Trying to shake away the traitorous thoughts as he knew that it was not his place to question he couldn't help but think that things could still have gone differently as the Guard numbered over 300,000 yet barely 1,000 men plus mercenaries were released to deal with the rebel threat. The fact that the rebels, at the time, were barely 5,000 strong and were mostly peasants meant that few were worried.

The war could have been resolved before it began if only Dalon had not somehow managed to get word to the Senate which would, in and of itself, have been manageable if it had not in turn garnered the attention of Potter Industries. He had however and then everything had changed.

After all the rebels had two heroes in this contained but insufferable war. Jedi Knight William Potter, prodigal knight and charismatic leader was the other bane in the Je'har's existence. It wasn't so much that he was a Jedi, although that would have been bad enough given their skills, it was also an heir to the great conglomerate that was Potter Industries.

The true Je'har government was understandably cut off from any further help, beyond those that had already thrown their proverbial hats in the ring, as no one wished to anger the Galactic company. To put it another, more accurate way, Potter Industries had better contacts in the Senate than the Je'har did and was most likely using them to block any further parties from joining the war.

Sadly for his side's war effort his former superiors had argued that the argumentative nature of the rebels would lead to their own destruction. However there seemed to be little, if any, friction in the ranks of the rebels let alone between the two men. They did only act in concert occasionally, Dalon seemingly in charge of the Northern Theatre of operations and Knight Potter the South, with at least nominally, Dalon in charge according to the few spies that they had managed to have among the rebels.

He sighed knowing that it was incredibly hard to keep spies alive among the rebels because units were often rotated or shared between the two leaders and it seemed that Potter almost plucked their true intent from their heads and soon enough they were found out and dealt with.

The rebels had no problem gaining spies for their part he was sure. It seemed that the locals of Almania loved Jedi Potter as not only did he supply, through family connections, much needed arms and medical supplies in the early days of the campaign but he also worked tirelessly healing as many as he could.

That, he mused, was probably why he gained the appellation of Jedi Lord which was a title that had not been in use since before the Ruusan Reformations and almost certainly infuriated the Jedi Order.

The Jedi Order themselves had, at first, been vocal in their support of the Je'har and the condemnation of Knight Potter's arbitrary destruction of the sacred way of life on Almania. Liberal media had, with the twisting of words and ideas, turned most against them however and now the Order was silent.

This was mainly due to the fact that trust in the Order was now at an all time low and they were busy trying to repair their own reputations. Where once they were respected they were now distrusted and where once children were gladly turned over to the Jedi for training now some had begun to try and hide them. All Jedi were treated this way except Knight Potter.

His face was seen all over the Holonet (as was Dalon's) along with Holo Journal articles decrying the evil's of the Je'har from the liberal media. By all accounts the sheep that lived in the Core lapped it up and viewed him, unlike the rest of the Jedi, with a reverence bordering on hero worship.

If Dalon was the head of the rebellion movement then it was clear that Potter was the heart.

In short while Dalon was the leader and the General of the rebellion the Jedi Lord was at first a healer and a trainer only to then become a defacto Colonel in the movement.

They of course did not call themselves rebels or even the movement as both names were not only vague but, from a military standpoint, neither helped with propaganda or recruitment. Instead they called themselves the Democratic Union of Almania or the DUA for short.

As if that would ever work, thought Kalo snidely, Almania existed to be ruled by the Je'har and the lowest classes existed to live or die at the whims of their masters however those masters saw fit.

He slowly poured himself some brandy still staring out of the window and looking at but not seeing the beautiful landscape.

Thousands upon thousands had flocked to the traitors cause which of course meant that by the time that the 300,000 strong Guard had been fully employed to combat the threat they had not only become entrenched and fortified in the North but there had been devastating guerrilla attacks in the South.

In the North Dalon had made them pay for every single bloody step to such an extent that it sometimes felt that he was just sending his men into a meat grinder. He also had recruitment and training centers set up so that the DUA now numbered somewhere in the region of 170,000 combatants though it was hard to get an accurate number as that was still fluctuating.

The Southern Theatre had been just as bad as the North though in a different manner as as soon as the training of new troops could be left to other officers safely (and therefore self sustaining) the Jedi Lord had taken three hundred of his best troops as well as the 625 droids and deployed behind enemy lines deep into the south using stolen speeders to always be on the move harassing the enemy and making them exceptionally hard to track. These attacks had stolen supplies, raided granaries, looted armouries and disrupted regular lines of supply to the Guard. It was often reinforced by units from the north.

The Jedi unit, known as Sabre Battalion, had not stopped at striking at and stealing from supply lines (as the Guard had by the Second year managed to stop almost all of Potter industries shipments to the planet). They had managed, through some trickery, to almost completely gut the air support section of the Guard.

Ordinarily that would not have been a problem as they could have either requisition or bought more for the task but it was not possible now.

They could not requisition any more because any ship they had was currently trying to block Potter Industries from landing with more supplies and, worse for them, they could not buy anymore due to the Potter's influence in the Senate stopping some of their natural allies in the Senate from helping them.

Indeed the blockade that they had was matched by one from the Senate that allowed for the fact that the ships that were then blocking trade ships were well within their rights to do so but that, on pain of the full weight of the Republic, those ships that were designated to stop traders could not be requisitioned as military ships and that effectively removed all air support for both sides.

This meant that Czerka, while quite happy to send arms and medical supplies (for the appropriate fee), would not send in any more troops or heavy equipment for fear of loosing much more lucrative contracts in the Senate. The only thing that the Je'har had going for them that the rebels did not were the Nova Guard.

These trained soldiers had arrived in force sans ships and tanks due to the blockade but more than eager to remove the stain on their reputation that was such an ignoble defeat given to them by Knight Potter. As much as it pained Kalo to admit most of the impressive victories on the Je'hars part were more down to the intervention of the Nova Guard and luck rather than any tactical greatness of the Home Guard.

For years the battle had raged, in one form or another, and despite his best efforts the Je'har were slowly pushed back further and further south but they had remained firm in their convictions until the Battle of the Hill one month ago.

Kalo shuddered as he remembered that horrible day even though it had gained him the leadership of the Guard.

One Month Ago

Kalo Lak dived into the Great Dome feeling the flesh on his legs and torso bruise as he landed heavily and wheezed for breath while he heard the firefight ping all around his ears.

"Where the hell is Third Battalion?" he screamed at his comm officer who was hiding behind the next nearest pillar.

"They are three miles away sir" came the equally loud response from the comm officer. "Command believes that the main thrust of the enemy's force is there and this is just a feint" even as the young man said that both he and Kalo were blasted off their feet from a mortar shell exploding very close to them.

As soon as the ringing in his ears stopped and sporting a now bloody leg thanks to a new nine inch gash down the length of it Kalo screamed in the unfortunate man's ear.

"Does this look like a feint to you?!" The man's eyes widened as he finally understood that the idea that they, the Home Corps which was a unit the comprised 50,000 men, had been deceived. The rest of his army were being held back by a token harassing force if the enemies three Corps emblems were anything to go by.

The fact was it had worked and the Home Corps was now cut off and surrounded and cut of by almost three times that number brought a wry smile to his lips. The fact that they were doomed to hide in this ancient symbol of Je'har justice and power until they were either killed or dragged out screaming almost broke his heart.

Their only hope it seemed was to hold out until reinforcements arrived, if they ever arrived at all.

Kneeling down and taking careful aim with his rifle at an annoying rebel who had started to get far too close to killing him.

"Cheeky Hutt" he muttered while helping said rebel get cooler by placing a brand new hole in their left eye. "Get on the line" he demanded " and tell command that the Dome is under attack by the main enemy force and that we require reinforcements now!"

In his peripheral vision he saw his comm officer start to scream down the phone even as more and more of his unit was steaming into the Dome entering all access points as they sought the relative safety of the structure with nowhere else to go.

He quickly called to his men to start forming rudimentary barricades knowing that the small mortars that the rebels had would do little against the ancient structure and to settle in for the long haul.

"Sir" shouted a bloodied sargent from somewhere deeper in. Kalo turned his weary eyes to the man and saw, through his own blood covered face, wounds that bled sluggishly from the sergeants arms and legs as well as numerous blaster burns of shot being partially stopped by his armour. The sergeant looked afraid and Kalo did not have to wait long for the bad news "Sabre Battalion has been sighted Sir. They are coming in fast".

The fear that the sergeant felt seemed to leak from him so thickly that it seemed almost a physical thing in and of itself and it swamped, like bitter smoke, the distance between the two men. Off to the side the comm officer began to shake and rock from side to side.

It appeared that the poor comm officer had, between the brutal attack that had overrun their original position and the fact that they were under assault from a force that was not only three times their size but led by a Jedi, lost his head. That assessment did not include having to watch your friends die or being blown apart by mortar shell either.

He eyed the man who couldn't have even seen his twentieth year yet and cursed the DUA as they forced his plans to change once again.

"Tell the men to start laying charges all around this area and will someone get me an estimate on where the enemy line is weakest" he half screamed still looking at the slowly rocking man child that was almost next to him.

Kalo sighed. He sympathised, he really did, but this was war. So without a word he made the judgement that the comm officer would not be easily broken out of his hysteria and, mindful of the other man's equipment, he took careful aim and shot him dead.

We have no time for histrionics or cowardice, he thought, already dismissing the corpse from his mind as he tried to think of how not to join him in death.

Then, adrenaline pumping in his system making colours brighter and images almost too sharp and almost surreal to his eye he calmly (at least on the outside) took up the comm unit receiver. There was no holo component as that relay had been heavily damaged and disabled during the early days of the war as had all short range comms.

This meant two things, first that long range communication was of very limited functionality. Instead of being able to have conversations instantaneously both sides were reduced to sending information in data bursts and then waiting for a reply through their jury rigged systems.

From Kalo's point of view the second thing was by far the most annoying as the short range comm network had suffered similar damage necessitating people carrying around massive packs on their backs that were able to broadcast the signal sufficiently between one another.

Poor bastards, thought Kalo eying the body of the now deceased man child in the corner, it's one thing to carry a rifle around but quite another to carry that monstrous thing on your back.

"This is Home Guard Corps First Battalion Colonel Kalo Lak….is anyone receiving" he stated, as calmly as he could, hating that this system of communication was not only cumbersome but also so archaic that it did not allow him to see who was on the other end.

"Voice identity confirmed" the female voice on the other end of the line was cool, calm and oddly detached "Report".

"Requesting reinforcements. We are pinned down by Sabre Battalion… say again we are pinned down and request reinforcements...please advise". The next four seconds were the longest of his life so far. It was the next sentence out of the nameless and seemingly uncaring woman's mouth that made his stomach drop however.

"We are unable to provide support at this time First Battalion. We advise a fighting retreat if at all possible". That one sentence crushed him as surely as if he had been shot in the chest by a turbo laser. They were truly on their own and every minute they were dying by the dozens with little safety and almost no idea of where to go.

The sergeant returned and from this close Kalo was able to make out the name on his uniform as he took the explosives switch from the sargent.

"Thank you Sergeant Ramos" he said smiling tightly and with just the right amount of professional detachment.

"You are welcome Sir. The explosives are all around the structure as well as the central support column. When they blow not only will the pillars shaped charges blow outwards and kill anyone around them them but the Great Dome's reinforced marble roof will fall directly down killing any enemy unlucky enough to be inside".

"And us along with it" came Kalo's sardonic reply.

"Yes sir" Ramos responded tiredly.

"Good" Kalo said bitterly while a dark smile fleetingly crossed his face as he digested the news of his impending death.

If they were coming to kill him, he thought somewhat resigned to his fate, then he would damn well make sure their precious Jedi Lord would die with him and his men. That did not mean that he was happy to die, quite the contrary, however he would do his duty as he had always done.

Then, as if the universe itself believed in the righteousness of the Je'har a military runner (yet another concession to the damaged comm network) came with some news that made his hopes for survival soar from the pit in his stomach where they had previously been languishing.

"Captain Elon of the third skirmishers compliments Sir" said the breathless runner " he wishes to inform you that they have broken through a weak point in the enemy lines and are holding the gap open for us for as long as they can. He reports the way is clear to the last loyalist Skyport".

A wave of nostalgia, completely out of place in the battlefield, hit him then as he truly realised deep down that his home was lost. Wherever they went now, under the command of the Je'har it would not be the streets of his youth that he would ever walk again. The Great Dome, eternal symbol of Je'har might, would fall to rubble and he had to accept that Almania had truly fallen to the rabble, to the usurpers and the rabble.

"Very well let's leave and quickly" said Kalo even as the two junior men crisply saluted and he felt them fall in behind him as he raced as fast as he could, firing at any enemies that came close, towards the breech in the enemy's lines.

It was inevitable that some of his men would have to be left behind, if only a company's worth. They were doomed from the very beginning and were allowing their brothers and sisters a chance at survival so he had no hesitation in assigning them to die. They were of the Second Caste after all, just as he was, and they all knew that there was a distinct possibility that they would have to risk their lives (and possibly die) for the Je'har just as he might. His expression didn't even flicker then as he ordered the closest company to hold the Dome.

He knew that the 250 resolute men would do their duty.

He ran, along with the rest of his men, and regardless of the righteousness of their cause or the fighting nature of the retreat, he knew that he had lost at least half of his 50,000 man unit and that he would likely lose a lot more before he was free and clear of this battlefield.

As he cut down any rebel in his way he was still doing his best to keep informed of the whereabouts of Sabre Battalion and trying to do both was taking all of his training and skill. Eventually however he did manage to fight his way clear and look down upon the Great Dome of the Je'har from the top of a small hillock.

The Great Dome of the Je'har was _the_ symbol of civilization and elegance (as far as he was concerned) as well as the center of any enlightened man's Galaxy.

Fitting, he thought, that the most important piece of architecture of the Je'har government would, in its final moments kill one of the biggest threats to peace and order that they had ever known. That threat was known as Jedi Knight William Potter

As he saw the distinctive lightsaber wielding figure enter the Dome he managed to wait three long breaths of time before gently, almost lovingly, setting off the explosives. Time seemed to slow for a moment as he waited for the explosives to go off. His momentary instinctive panic that they would fail to go off did not even have a chance to fully form as they exploded in the exact manner that he was advised they would.

With a distinctive thump and a large cloud of dust (not to mention the original explosive blast itself) the Dome fell and he couldn't help but come to the conclusion that the destruction of such a glorious relic was a small price to pay to damage the rebellion and kill the majority of Sabre Battalion as well as their Jedi leader.

Present Day

Seven hundred troops had made it out with him. Seven hundred out of 50,000 was not just a defeat but a complete catastrophe as with that battle they not only lost so many men and their capital but they also lost the last loyal Skyport.

This meant that at least another third of the remaining Guard were caught behind enemy lines and those that did not swiftly surrender were picked off as they tried to reach hidden safe houses by the now rising Fourth and Fifth Castes as they, sensing the change in the air, rose up and mercilessly killed them. They of course claimed to be freedom fighters but Kalo knew what they really were.

They were murderers.

Due to that and due to the desertions that followed the first wave of violence when the Home Guard finally managed to regroup at Auyemesh the formerly 300,000 strong Guard had been reduced to barely 25,000 and leaving him, as the senior most officer, in charge. The final piece of bad news that had filtered back to the Guard was that, though severely depleted by the explosion and its aftermath, Sabre Battalion had survived the attack. More than that so had there Jedi Lord commander.

By this point the Nova Guard seeing blood in the water had left and the blockade had disappeared soon after. Their personal honour was tempered by the desire to not anger the likely victor anymore than they already had and with the loss of resources they had suffered after the loss of Almania they also knew that payment would be long in coming, if at all.

Kalo doubted that Potter had any friendly feelings for him at all at this point. In fact, if it had been Kalo in his place, then killing Potter would have been pushed to the very top of his to do list.

That the rebels were coming to remove the remaining Guard was no longer in question. Thankfully the Guard had improvised anti-ship guns strewn throughout the planet and they also had enough men to man them for years. Though given the Caste of the majority of the populous on Auyemesh recruitment was a large issue for the remaining soldiers.

The upside of the blockade disappearing was that they did have enough pull in the Senate to get some supplies, under the table so to speak, especially from certain parties that were opposed to Potter Industries including almost every business leader of the planet of Cato Neimoidia.

He thought that they still had a chance, though of the original fifty First Caste ruling Je'har families that had ruled this planetary system (for as long as history had recorded much of anything on Almania) thirty four had been killed while trying to flee to safety in the early stages of the Battle of the Hill. A further fifteen of the ruling Je'har, along with their bodyguards, had been killed by either Dalon or the Sabre Battalion in any number of skirmishes before and after the battle.

"Status Colonel?" came the voice of Alon Rouan, last surviving member of both the Great House of Rouan and the ruling Je'har Council, while the man himself sat on a throne like chair in the back of the room.

"The Guard is 25,000 strong and our allies in the Senate predict that we can expect a resolution allowing us to hire a brand new mercenary army within the year my lord. The same resolution would allow us to gain a large loan to finance the army though I do worry about incurring that much debt".

"It is not your place to worry about such things but mine" was the harsh and authoritative response from Rouan. "On that note we may soon be able to replace the lost Je'har with certain members of new families of the First Caste and return things to how they should be" the man's watery blue eyes firmly focused on Kalo "assuming we can hold out that long?"

As Kalo was about to answer that of course they could the main power reactor that supplied the turrets, as well as the city, their energy as well as the three backup generators bust apart in a violent explosion. That meant that not only was there a sudden blackout but that the turrets stopped working.

Kalo had a sinking feeling at that moment that Rouan was wrong and that the last stand of the Je'har had begun.

Elsewhere on Auyemesh

Some time earlier Harry was lost in a particular thought.

Having a building fall on you hurts, Harry mused, though magic and the Force are both great helpful tools when it comes to ensuring your survival.

Sadly most of the mixed unit that was with him was destroyed in either the blast or when the roof collapsed inwards. Thanks to the cramped conditions forcing the men close to one another he had managed to save a few hundred with the useful combination of a momentary Force Push followed by a snap Protego. Naturally neither had held long at all but it had managed to stop the larger chunks from turning those near him into jelly.

Sadly most of them where Potter droids and when it came to the humans of Sabre Battalion only around twenty had managed to be close enough to be saved.

When it came to the natural assault on Auyemesh this had lead to a unique problem as, in one of their last acts as a functioning governing body, the Je'har had outlawed any and all Potter droids and by now the Potter industries lines styles were so famous that you could tell one at a glance even if you were unsure of the particular model.

This edict had meant very little when it came to Almania as the populous was already in semi open revolt against the Je'har when he had first arrived but Auyemesh was the new seat of their power and if he had taken a single Potter droid the mission that he was now on would have been over before it began.

The mission codenamed Vanguard was, like most of the DUA's plans simple in theory and exceptionally difficult to pull off in practice.

First by using stolen transport shuttles and having bribed a member of the Senate for legitimate supply ship transponder codes as well as taking a ridiculously roundabout route they had arrived at the moon with the inhabitants unaware that they originated from Almania.

Harry had then disembarked, in the early evening, with his four teams of ten into the Skyport nearest Central Command. Thankfully for the men with the rapid retreat of so many of the Je'har's Blood Shirts there were not only plenty of spare uniforms to use as disguises but, thanks to the almost blended nature of the remaining enemy units in Auyemesh, it was unlikely to be noticed that the uniforms were torn or from different units.

Central Command was not only where the last of the Je'har were located but it was also the main access to the power grid (having been like many things on this planet repurposed in recent months) albeit fifty levels apart according to their spies.

Pulling out his trusty Sorosub S-5 Blaster, reasoning that no matter how useful his dark blue saber would be at this point it would simply be too distinctive, Harry signalled and three of the teams moved off towards their own targets.

Harry and his team waited, wondering around the Skyport, moving around boxes and appearing to help out in the general clean up and maintenance of the area, for the prearranged twenty five minutes that it would take for the other teams to get into place. They then moved slowly down to the guarded fiftieth floor.

There they were stopped by the three men who were guarding the floor. The guards were only briefly able to stop them and none of the three were able to raise the alarm with two falling to well placed throwing knives from Harry's men and the third falling to a well placed shot of Harry's Sorosub.

In their defence to being somewhat lightly guarded manpower at this time was at a premium and their anti-ship guns had kept the DUA at bay since the Battle of the Hill and, as far as the DUA's spies were able to gather, the three men were part of a six man team that had done twelve hour shifts all of those days.

Human nature being what it was boredom and complacency had set in after a few weeks.

These things, thought Harry, killed far too often in war. It wasn't always about grand tactics or superior training. Tiredness, complacency and hubris would kill just as often as not.

He nodded the all clear to his men and, keeping watch on his arm display at the time, pulled out a chip designed by the DUA smuggled in by way of the synthskin underneath his left hand.

When the time was right he placed it into the dataport at exactly the same time as three other teams were putting similar devices into the backup generators across the capital though unlike those devices, given the sensitive location, Harry's had no explosive component to its program.

The fleet that was waiting needed no signal as the three explosions would be signal enough for the waiting ships. Though fleet might have been the wrong word to describe such an odd assortment of ships as these were not the smoothly designed ships of the Judicial Forces but rather this fleet was made up of any ship that the DUA could get its hands on.

That meant that, along with the few standard dropships and military grade carriers there were also frigates that were at least a century old, requisitioned pleasure yachts, derelict freighters that could barely fly and beaten cargo vessels.

Ordinarily not the safest fleet (or even the most inspiring) especially against planetary defences.

This time however they would serve, if only adequately, as when Harry left with his men electricity began to arc from the single computer in the otherwise bare room behind him. Within ninety seconds both he and his men were clear and, though there was no fiery explosions behind him (due to Dalon's desire for the last ruling Je'har to stand trial) the three explosions not only lit up the night sky as one but informed him that the next stage was to begin.

"Men" he barked "with me". They moved with grim purpose, shedding their disguises as they went, but it wasn't until they hit the floor below the Je'har's penthouse rooms in Central Command that they encountered serious resistance in the form of thirty Blood Shirts as well as twenty heavily armed members of the Je'hars personal guard.

The time for subtlety had passed, Harry knew, igniting his lightsaber's blue blade.

He then dove swiftly into battle firing quickly and accurately, sensing more than seeing his shots,even as he jumped over the first of the personal guard and his men began firing from behind cover. With his lightsaber swinging, his blaster and men firing, along with letting the Force fully guide him to where he should be and where he was to aim his opponents did not stand a chance.

Kalo Lak knew that the world as he understood it was knew that there would be no great renaissance for the Je'har, no resurgent army to take back what was lost and no way of reclaiming the glories of the past.

Alon Rouan however did not know any such thing as, in his life, he had always known that people reported to him and that, if he willed something to happen, it was done. So he began to ask a lot of questions about the noises coming from the other side of his locked door that all basically boiled down to queries about what was happening..

To Kalo however they were mostly white noise.

He could have answered with the truth, he could have said that the noises they were hearing were the Guard dying for the Jehar in _glorious_ combat. The screams and the smell of cauterized flesh robbed him of any desire to answer so graciously. He could have simply said that the rebels had come to either arrest or kill them, after

all, it had the virtue of being the plain truth.

If he had had the audacity, which as a true soldier of the Second Caste and servant of the Je'har had been trained out of him long before, he may have even expounded that at least as martyrs their cause would be remembered. Instead he felt almost perversely philosophical and it showed in his answer.

"The end of our world Lord end of our world". He even sounded slightly bemused in response to the questions despite his bitter tone.

"Well what are we going to do about it?" Rouan demanded even as Kalo shook his head at the idea that such a long lasting and beautiful society could have been brought to such a low point and bitter end so quickly. After all in less than a decade a society that had existed largely unchanged for almost 25,000 years it seemed that it was all about to end.

Kalo slowly poured himself a drink. The burn of whiskey helped remind him of better times and he wondered, if only for a moment, if all he had left now were his memories of better times and if those memory might warm him while waiting for a hangmans noose.

Sipping his drink Kalo noticed, as if from far away, a dark blue blade appear in the middle of the locked door only to then almost gently move up and trace the outer edges of the frame. Kalo put down his drink and slowly began to prepare himself for what was to come. He drew his trusty twin blasters and waited.

Though he could hear fighting in the streets as the majority of the Guard did its duty and sought to defend against the invaders. Given the fact that they were outnumbered and after the explosions had knocked out almost every military defence system Kalo knew that it was a futile effort.

"Die I suppose" came the long awaited and monotone response.

Before Rouan could respond and register his obvious objections to this idea the door fell to the floor in hot glowing pieces after the lightsaber had done its work.

In stepped both Harry Potter and ten of his men looking completely unconcerned by the occupants of the room.

It was silly but a part of Kalo couldn't help but be impressed that despite the fact that the Jedi was wearing robes that were bloody and torn and despite the fact that they had clearly been washed more in a stream than a city (as had the Jedi himself) he somehow seemed more inspiring for that fact.

His Je'har master in contrast was dressed in finery that, despite the man sweating profusely in them, were probably worth more than some complexes on the planet. Rouan was certainly dressed well but, unlike the Jedi, he struck a figure almost as inspiring as mouldy fungus.

When it was clear to him that the Jedi was the more impressive of the two Kalo somehow irrationally hated him more in that moment for that more than anything else he had done in the entire conflict. The feeling swiftly passed and under other circumstances Kalo he might have found the entire line of thought absurd or humorous but now, after all of this conflict, he was just tired.

"Hello" came the calm voice of William Potter revolutionary and Jedi Lord.

"I demand" screeched Rouan only to be cut off by a gesture from the Jedi that caused the smaller man's mouth to clamp firmly shut.

"You demand nothing" stated the Jedi as he suddenly felt all of Jedi Potters attention focus solely on him.

Harry for his part, when scanning the room with all of his senses, was impressed with Kalo Lak. The man radiated no sense of fear into the Force and their was no great sense of hatred emanating from the man. All that Harry could feel from the man was a great sense of weariness and resignation. Harry's respect for the man rose further at the fact that he could sense no despair.

Harry's eyes flickered back to the now speechless Rouan and his expression soured. The Force was almost screaming this man's thoughts. Rouan was the epitome of arrogant indignation but it wasn't an indignation over the attack per se but ran much deeper.

Tracing that indignation led Harry past Rouan's inability to speak and the attack on his office (that after all might have been understandable) wasn't hard. In fact his thoughts were broadcasting so loudly Harry almost didn't need occlumency to understand what he was thinking.

Rouan was indignant that anyone would dare contradict him. Worse he was the product of a system that ingrained in him the idea that he could do no wrong and that outside of a select group of people like him people existed to serve his whims. It was inconceivable to him that people were designed for anything else or that his will would not be made manifest.

Worse than that the injustices in the systems, the slavery, the abuse and a thousand other things swam from Rouan's mind and into Harry's. To say that Harry was disgusted by the man would be a large understatement.

Instead of wallowing in the cesspit that was Rouan's mind Harry instead turned back to his long time adversary Colonel Lak and for the first time ever these two men, so often pitted against one another, were staring at each other in the flesh and face to face.

"Let's have a drink together shall we?" asked Harry conversationally. The tone he used was more appropriate to a Coruscant downtown bar then the final moments of a war that had raged for years. Both men moved, scanning their surroundings automatically like the battle weary soldiers that they were, towards the small wet bar in the corner and the small table beside it.

Kalo holstered one of his blasters while keeping a wary eye on Harry and served himself another whiskey and sat down. Harry, for his part did not drink, he merely looked on amused at Kalo's caution.

"What happens now" Kalo said blunty still having one of his blaster trained on Harry who, in turn, had long since deactivated his lightsaber and appeared completely harmless.

"Well" Harry responded "You could shoot me with that blaster". Harry smiled humorlessly at the idea "Though of course I would be against that" he jerked his head behind himself "and these men would surely take offense".

Kalo snorted at the idea that he might even succeed in shooting Jedi Potter even at this range as, if his finger were even to twitch, he had no doubt he would be dead in an instant.

"Or" continued Harry "you and your _friend_ here will be taken to stand trial for your crimes".

"And die either way I suppose?" countered Lak.

"That remains to be seen" Harry said "Though I would be willing to put in a good word for you….only you".

"Why would you be willing to do that?" asked Lak incredulously.

"No one else has ever dropped a building on me" deadpanned Harry to which Lak could do nothing other than bark out a laugh. After a moment Lak spoke again

"No...really why would you do it?"

Harry sighed and thought a moment about his response.

"I am tired of war. Jedi are warriors of course as the Galaxy is hardly safe but that is not all we are. We are poets, healers, diplomats and philosophers as well as many other things and although I will never make a passable diplomat and I am a good warrior that is not all I am. If I press the point home then this system would have no chance to heal and I would not be being all that I am".

"I'm not sure I understand" said Kalo Lak.

"That's okay as I'm not sure I completely understand either" said Harry with a smile.

"You are a very odd man" blurted Lak somewhat surprised by himself.

"I know" was Harry's simple response.

"If you were tired of war why not try for a peace treaty before now?" Lak pressed as he put away his remaining blaster.

"We did" Harry answered easily while nodding his head at Rouan while reaching over and pouring Lak another drink "but _he_ always refused".

The two men sat in an oddly easy silence as the power of the Je'har was crushed and the Galactic history of the system was changed forever. The fires from the fighting illuminated their faces as Harry finally poured himself a drink. The island of quiet was only broken by the clash of steel and the sound of blaster fire as Harry's men guarded the two most important prisoners of war.

A few weeks later as a slightly rejuvenated Harry slowly walked up his ship ramp when Tor Dalon, now president of the Provisional Government (until elections could be held) approached him and signaled him to stop.

"Where are you off to my friend" oddly, but perhaps understandably due to the fact that Harry had spent much of his time behind enemy lines during the wars five year duration, they had rarely met in person. Still somehow their acquaintance had deepened into a true friendship.

"Home" Harry responded with true regret "as soon as our techs were able to get the long range communications back up properly to signal our victory the Jedi High Council demanded my presence. I've only been able to put them off this long by stating how much I needed to recuperate".

"Well" Dalon said false cheer lacing his voice "if they throw you out the Almanian System will always have a place for its Jedi Lord. In fact as far as both the people and Government are concerned you will be the only Jedi allowed here for some time".

Harry smiled and neatly avoided commenting on the average Almanian's view of the Jedi as a whole.

"Potter Industries will be here within a day" said Harry and, with a shrug of his shoulders Dalon accepted the change of subject with good grace. "They will help with training a true security force, rebuilding and medical supplies and will be provided at cost for the first five years. Here" he said passing Dalon a datapad "is a list of all the droids that will be arriving here from tomorrow".

At the list Dalon looked like he wanted to weep. His people were injured, broken and so poor that the wider Galaxy had written them off as a bad investment. Here Potter Industries was, once again, bucking the trend as the sheer number of droids that were coming (mostly building and medical droids) would mean that many who were doomed to die in pain would instead survive.

Unbeknownst to Dalon at the time the building droids had orders not to leave until all rebuilding was complete. A small gesture on Harry's part to help his friend and repair some of the damage that he had, at least partially, caused.

It was also a gift from one friend to another in need.

Harry smiled, was grabbed in a bear hug by his friend, and then began to move up the ramp stopping only to call over his shoulder "One favour? Replace the Dome with something else. It's an eyesore….or it was".

"Done" called Dalon chuckling quietly at the idea that they would ever reconstruct the Dome.

Within the year the Provisional Government would be replaced with the Democratic State with Tor Dalon as its first Prime Minister serving his first decade long term.

Within three years the new Government House would be built on the site of the Dome and, apart from being where the Parliament met, it would quickly become known as a marvel of modern Architecture.

Within five years Potter Industries would become the major intergalactic employer on the planet. The moons would become massive factories and Almania itself becoming a major show room and Galactic trade hub for Potter Industries new speeder making arm.

Forty percent of the company was owned automatically, in a cooperative like arrangement, by the people of Almania and a further ten percent was owned by the Government itself. It's success ensured that Almania would never be disregarded as an insignificant backwater again.

In that spirit the name of the company was voted on by the Almanian Parliament and, despite Harry's vocal protests, the majority of the system were happy with the name and soon the speeders themselves were one of the most versatile on the market having incorporated the copyrighted Potter Modular Technology (ModTech for short).

The company was called Potter's Triumph.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13: Questions, Accusations and Recriminations

763BBY

2,890 ATC

Coruscant

"Sir" came the voice of a man in the uniform of the now defunct Sabre Battalion "we have arrived at Coruscant's main spaceport and your Honour Guard stands ready". With the end of that simple statement he quickly saluted and stood to attention before his former commanding officer.

"At ease Major Henrich" replied Harry in a long suffering tone to the suddenly flustered man.

It always amazed Harry what using a small amount of magic can do. For example Harry regularly used Occlumency to protect his thoughts from intrusion but, to do that one had to organise them first which naturally lead to being able to recall things he had seen or heard with astounding accuracy.

This trait had the fortunate side effect of allowing him to remember almost every name of everyone he had ever met. This had not only vastly improved the morale of troops that served under him but also gave the (not inaccurate) impression that Harry cared for each and everyone of his men especially as most other officers merely referred to their subordinates by rank alone or simply the title of soldier.

This led to the flustered Major who, having not only heard of William Potter's exploits but had also briefly served under him near the beginning of the war, was understandably flattered to be remembered. "I am not your commander anymore my friend". Harry smiled and then continued in his soft smooth voice "I am merely a simple Jedi once again" he clapped the man on his shoulder as he added " and no simple Jedi needs an Honour Guard".

"You are the Jedi Lord" came the unyielding reply as if the archaic title explained heaved a great sigh still uncomfortable with the title (though his pride would never allow him to admit that to other Jedi) even as he moved towards the exit of the _Patience_ while thinking of his reply.

He quickly smoothed his robes understanding better than most that on Coruscant appearance was often more important than substance before giving his response.

"Even so. You are on my ship and you are leaving it for the last time to go home on a civilian transport and start a new life as a security officer are you not?"

"Yes sir. In fact most of the soldiers in your service are becoming peacekeepers" came the almost whispered response.

"Then when you leave this ship you are no longer a soldier but a peacekeeper and I am asking you, one peacekeeper to another, no Honour Guard please".

Harry's face still a young looking 26, appeared to be so earnest in his desire for a lack of pomp and ceremony that the soon-to-be former Major could do nothing more than nod his reluctant agreement.

Harry may have looked like a brash 26 year old but, in reality, he felt every single one of his 47 years alive and more. He had been changed by the war that he had fought. He was no longer the young man fleeing the politics of the Jedi Temple. He was older now, a little less quick to laugh, a little more serious and, like most who age before their time, a little more sad and cynical in his view on life.

The trade off did have it's advantages though. In the war he had seen that good and evil were ideals that people strived for not absolutes to be easily defined. He had had to adapt more quickly than he had ever had to in the Temple to survive and he had actually been able to occasionally use his magic as he was no longer under the constant surveillance that came with being a Jedi on Coruscant (especially a traditional one). All of this served to do one very important thing….it put matters into perspective.

Now, about to re-enter a world of double talk, back handed compliments and empty words he found that he missed the war much more than he would ever like to admit. It wasn't so much the fighting that he missed (he hadn't become a warmonger after all) but Harry found that he missed the clarity of purpose that the war provided. There was no ambiguity on the battlefield, no hesitation allowed and if you planned well enough as well as not falling apart too much you might survive if the celestials were kind. It was that simplicity that he missed.

Here, as he had noted before, often appearance truly seemed to outweigh substance. For example Harry's robes were now much more disturbing to a progressive Jedi as they now incorporated armour into their makeup. Harry did not mind that they did as over the course of the war he had worn many different types of armour as the situation called for it. The idea that a Jedi would sacrifice his traditional robes for anything else would be almost sacrilege to Yoda and his ilk and Harry was deeply amused by that tidbit.

Added to that he was quite frankly touched that the people he served would commission the armour and robe combination that he wore as a parting gift. The robes themselves reminded Harry of the ones that a redeemed Revan had made using the Starforge shortly before its destruction in style. Instead of being white with a bronze coloured armour composite they were a dark green, almost black, with a silver sheen to the armour composite rather than bronze.

The gauntlet on Harry's right side had incorporated his vambrace and on his right breast the symbol of the Democratic State of Almania was engraved into his armour. The symbol of the new government was a sparrowhawk in mid flight with a crescent moon underneath. Engraved on his left breast was the symbol of the Jedi Order.

Also, as he was about to face a crowd at some point, he wore no mask and everything from his cuirass to his boots were polished to a beautiful shine.

The main reason that Harry was touched by the armour had very little to do with its similarities to the famous Prodigal Knight, though the progressives might focus solely on that, but rather that the metallic pieces had been made from a Phrik alloy scavenged from melted down droid parts ( at great difficulty as it was almost impossible to reforge by design) so that he literally carried a piece of his droids, the war and that moment in history around his chest.

The title of Jedi Lord was also now irrevocably his and the people of Almania had apparently known, at least in part, what that title used to mean. In that spirit they had offered him a place in the new government as well as a small mansion to live in as 'befitted his station' as well as the armour.

Needless to say that, aside from the armour, Harry had refused.

The victorious public was not to be denied so easily however and so he had reluctantly accepted though he had managed to pervert the spirit of the rewards as much as he could. He had, aside from a single room that they would not take, placed the mansion into a trust for use as a state of the art Hospital. He had even convinced them that the two outer wings would be converted to two orphanages for the lost and displaced children scattered throughout the system.

All of these ventures were funded solely by the Potter Industry's deep pockets so both orphanages and the Hospital were both superbly staffed and incredibly well funded.

As for the position that he was offered in the Democratic State Harry had cited the obvious conflict of interest with both his service to the Republic as a whole and the obligation he had as a member of the Jedi Order.

He could not, he had argued, serve two masters effectively especially given the Almanian general dislike of Jedi as a whole. He had then added that he would make a poor member of the leadership if he was forever being called halfway across the galaxy at the Council's behest.

In response instead of dropping the idea they had created the position of Special Advisor to the Government and (before he could begin to voice his objections) had even made the title hereditary. They had even passed a resolution that only he, his heirs or someone they designate would be the only Jedi welcome in the entire system as well as making him and any heirs citizens of Almania.

This most likely was because of the Council's own inaction when it came to their plight just a few short years ago but it could also partly be, Harry remembered thinking at the time, a slight overreaction to him trying to refuse the trappings of his 'station'.

As Harry stepped down the ramp and onto the main walkway to the Temple he would also lay bets that the progressives would see none of the positive changes that the war had caused, just as they would not think of the countless people he had saved. He had saved them not only by aiding in toppling the Je'har but also with his skills as a medic including, unbeknownst to them, a judicious use of magic.

Instead all the Council (barring possibly the Grandmaster herself) would see none of that but merely a warmonger bathed in the blood of thousands and addicted to the thrill of battle. They would see a prideful Jedi returning to an unjust hero's welcome as, during the course of the war, his popularity had risen astronomically even as the Order's reputation had plummeted just as much.

Harry smiled in the bright sunlight as he went to greet the gathered crowd that he could hear long before he had ever finished the short walk down the ramp. He moved slowly, towards the with a bright smile on his lips, which included not only the smiling average citizen but also a large scattering of Jedi, some smiling and others scowling, along with the aristocratic few.

Some were grateful, others were cooly watchful and most of the aristocratic few were simply there to be seen with the new hero, this newly minted Jedi Lord.

Further back past all the crowds but still within viewing distance Jedi Masters Yoda, Durvan and Myec watched the crowd in faint disgust disliking that any Jedi, even such a misguided traditionalist as William Potter, would allow himself to be made such a spectacle of.

Master Alof Durvan's distinctive Zabrak features were furrowed in deep disapproval and that only deepened with every single slow step that the rebellious Knight walk down the exit ramp clothed in armour and, perhaps even worse, with not only a lightsaber but a blaster clipped to his belt.

"What is he thinking?" spat the newest member of the Jedi High Council "Has he not brought enough shame on the Jedi Order with his antics already?".

"Disturbing, his wearing armour is" The almost glacial voice of Master Yoda drew the attention of the other two tense Jedi Masters.

"Can we not stop him wearing such warlike things?" asked Tuspin Myec Harry's former master. Myec studied his former padawan closely as if, like some broken engine, he could find and fix what he considered fatal flaws in his former padawan.

"Sadly not. Without a unanimous vote of the High Council we cannot ban what an individual Jedi is allowed to wear. Though uniformity is preferred the rule in place to allows for cultural and environmental differences. The Grandmaster would never agree to ban the wearing of armour besides which, given the fact that he has just returned from a warzone, the argument can be made that his wearing of armour is not only permissible but sensible". Durvan's face was tight with disapproval even if his voice was gently reminding Myec of the rules of the Jedi Order.

"Accurate, your evaluation of the High Council, is" stated Yoda looking at Myec and both men nodded at the state of the Council itself. It was common knowledge that another traditionalist had vacated his seat, this time simply by passing into the Force, and it was an open secret that Myec would be named the replacement.

"The progressive movement still does not have the unanimous support of the Council as long as Grandmaster Coven still retains her seat and represents the traditional way. When she does finally step down however…" Durvan began only for his thoughts to be finished for him by Master Yoda.

"Then begin, fixing the Jedi teachings, we can".

All the men nodded, satisfied with the way that the future of the Jedi Order was unfolding while keeping a distrustful eye on the returning Knight Potter and his (to their mind) outdated reviews.

"Should we investigate Potter?" the sharp voice of Tuspin Myec was as calm in that moment as if he was discussing the weather rather than a massive violation of another Jedi's privacy.

"Dangerous, this course is" warned Yoda even as his face turned contemplative as he began to truly consider the idea.

"Any investigation would have to start with his entire family" began Master Durvan and then he paused his face twisting as if he had eaten something sour. "With the Orders reputation, barring Potters, currently in tatters it would have to be very quiet especially due to the events in the Almanian System".

"Why should any of this matter?" asked Myec sharply "We should not waste our resources.. After all people are fickle and will soon learn that we were right in our careful deliberation in the long run".

"And how much funding from the Senate will the Jedi loose before then if it is found out that we are not only investigating a war hero but also his beloved family as well?" Durvan rebutted " And what of Potter Industries? They now employ almost 18% of workers in the relevant industrial sectors which means their droid's make up 87% of the droid market. How do you think the Senate will react if we anger them?"

"Potter Industries will not push for us to be punished harshly if it comes to that... after all the current heir is a Jedi…" countered Myec.

"Do nothing for now we must" said Yoda, with a great sigh. effectively ending the argument before it could continue any further. "Your idea, in reserve, will be" he added gravely.

"I will draw up plans to covertly infiltrate Cadi as soon as I can so that, if we need them, they will be available".

All men in the room took a moment to truly wonder how difficult it would be to actually try and infiltrate the private world of the Potters.

"Come Master Yoda" said Master Durvan breaking the silent introspection with a glance at his chronometer "The Council will be waiting for us to come and discuss this 'Jedi Lord' business with _Knight_ Potter himself". Durvan said the last title with a definite edge to his voice.

The High Council's Main Chamber

Less than an hour later Harry strode into the Council's chamber with a confident stride that he didn't entirely feel and studied the faces of the masters that were arrayed, some only by holo, around the room.

He found the almost complete lack of traditional Jedi to be disturbing not simply because it spoke of the changes amongst the Jedi as a whole but also because of how it boded for his future. Almost every face of the Jedi Council regarded him with various levels of distrust and scorn with the only exception being Grandmaster Coven herself who smiled lightly at his appearance.

Then again Harry did distrust them just as much, if not more so. Where their facial expressions were easy to read his was a bland mask giving none of his inner feelings away. Magic, specifically Occlumency, allowed him to not only do that but also avoid the almost constant (and very rude) telepathic probes from some of the more disapproving members.

To them it appeared as if his mind was nothing less than a serene pond that radiated his surety and the righteousness of his true thoughts were hidden deep in that pond and behind an invisible wall that they could not sense let alone pierce.

Harry's personal amusement knew no bounds at this thought as he, a traditional _emotional_ Jedi, was not only emanating the serenity that the progressives so longed for but the irony that the thing that they searched for was helping block their probes.

Their frustration was like a delicious fine wine to him and it also put them off balance emotionally. Perhaps, Harry thought, it was only a sliver of an advantage but given the fact

That he was heavily outnumbered and in a hostile room he would take any advantage.

Harry stood before the half circle of Jedi Masters with his arms held loosely behind his back the picture of relaxed contemplation as he studied them and they him.

"Masters" Harry said with his voice soft and melodious gently soothing against their ears. "You summoned me?"

"We summoned you four years ago" snapped Master Durvan "yet you only return now? Do the Jedi mean so little to you Knight Potter?".

Standing straight backed at his customary six foot two inches and looking not only healthy but arguably strikingly handsome he cut a striking figure.

This irritated the new Jedi Master as, to him, it was yet another scenario where others hard work (namely his) were overlooked for an arrogant pretty boy.

Durvan, like most progressives, wanted to lead the Jedi into a new age of enlightenment and they wanted to spread (what they thought of as) the right way of doing things throughout the Republic.

This meant that, deep down in his psyche somewhere, he wanted to be the Jedi that the Republic looked to and the one that they talked about. He wanted to be the standard that the public viewed as the ideal Jedi but, much to his chagrin, that wasn't the case.

In fact, adding insult to injury, that particular honour was held not only by a traditional Jedi but by someone that appeared to dislike the honour. This only served to infuriate the Jedi Master even further as, as far as he was concerned, he had worked harder than Potter and he had even painstakingly attained a rank that would forever elude the outdated Knight.

The fact that the main reason Potter and indeed any other traditional Knight would never achieve the title of Jedi Master was mainly due to the bias of the current High Council never even entered his mind.

All of these facts and feelings Harry had learned in a glance as, though telepathy couldn't break through his Occlumency barriers, passive Legilimency had no problem reading Durvan's thoughts. This was mainly due to the fact that with his calm so damaged by his turbulent emotions he was almost screaming his thoughts into the chamber.

The fact that he had no barriers also helped but, in Master Durvan's defence, there existed (or at least there had not been discovered) a passive form of Force based mind reading so their defences were less like general walls and more like mines attempting to trap and destroy directed attacks.

"I was unaware that you were a member of this Council four years ago" Harry chided gently. He took a breath and before anyone could answer he continued " I was also unaware that my regard for humanitarian aid constituted caring nothing for the Jedi Order itself. Is this the Council's official position now? That to care for others is to not care for the Jedi?"

During the course of his impromptu speech Harry's voice had turned dry and tired. It was almost as if he were discussing the weather for the umpteetnth time with a bothersome neighbour rather than disagreeing with someone who was technically his superior before their highest governing body.

"That is not what was meant at all" snapped another 'new' Jedi Master who was a human woman in her late twenties by the name of Mond Geralo. Under other circumstances she might have been considered beautiful but the deep scowl on her face and the disapproving glint to her eye marred any beauty she might have possessed.

"Oh I see" said Harry genially "then it must be a simple misunderstanding" his voice, once full of melody, turned cold and stone like "sort of like how many members of this Council are trying to root around my head _without_ _my permission_ completely disregarding etiquette as well as ancient custom and courtesy".

Masters Geralo, Durvan (who was only officially elevated minutes before) and a few others all reacted as if they had been slapped hard across the face. When Harry met their eyes however none were even a trace apologetic.

He was happy to note that the Grandmaster looked furious with those members. He was equally saddened however that she did not take immediate action for their faux pas.

"Careful, must we be, when facing a Jedi Lord" came Yoda's arctic response.

"Ah...Master Yoda… it has been too long" replied Harry.

If the Council had any thoughts along the idea that the recent war had left Harry, or as they knew him William, unchanged those thoughts were swiftly dying with every passing moment. Gone was the (seemingly) content and somewhat bookish scholar who objected to the progressive movement within the Jedi on moral grounds.

In his place they now saw a warrior and a healer who understood the difference between the image of the benevolent Galaxy that the Republic (and by extension the Jedi) promoted and the reality of not only the Republic but, at least in part as a member of the Potter family, a small taste of the vastness beyond it.

This Jedi had seen the hollowness of that image. This Jedi had wept as he failed to save newborns from being slaughtered by angry soldiers who simply saw them as useless or in the way because they were the wrong caste.

He had seen the results of the beatings, the rapes and the tortures that were so institutionalised in their culture that they were never reported and rarely remarked man had stared down literal armies in the name of those faceless, nameless and voiceless souls.

Twelve arguably wise individuals in robes did not make a dent in that hard found resolve.

"If you had been doing anymore than skimming the Holonet broadcasts or the Holojournal articles that have been documenting both the war and incidentally my life over the past few years I did not ask for the title. I even requested them to stop using it many times over the years but please don't allow that fact to get in the way of your unspoken accusations".

Harry's eyes and Yoda's locked and for the span of a moment the dislike that the two felt for each other, often hidden behind cultured masks, was between them like a raging beast ready to begin to roar, rip and tear. After that moment the masks slipped back in place and it was almost as if it had never happened.

"Enough" said Grandmaster Fae Coven finally, her voice sounded exhausted and tired to Harry, but such was her reputation and esteem that both men refocused themselves to her immediately. Both Harry and Yoda gave her their full attention as, regardless of their differences, she was still the Grandmaster of the order and, oddly enough, friendly with them both.

"I am disappointed in the pair of you" she said to them before her eyes moved, almost hawk like, to both Geralo and Durvan. " The pair of you need to remember that just because you have ascended to this council it does not give you the leeway to do as you wish. We are all brothers and sisters in the Order after all and I am disturbed by your willingness to try and violate another's mind".

The Jenet Grandmaster closed her eyes while considering the pair who (along with Yoda and Harry) finally appeared at least somewhat contrite. "I believe that the Outer Rim relief efforts are in need of more guidance almost as much as you are in need of humility. It is my judgement then, as Grandmaster of the Order, that Masters Durvan and Geralo are dispatched separately to two different relief efforts within the month for a period of no less than two years".

As the two looked as if they might protest their effective banishment from the Core Grandmaster Coven smiled humorlessly and then added " Neither of you are in lifetime seats and the alternative for me, if you object, is to realise that you were perhaps elevated too early and suspend you from your seats on this Council for a period of at least five years. As both of you are short term members of this Council it would effectively end your membership to this body today".

The two Jedi quickly quieted under her pitiless gaze like errant schoolchildren spanked by their mother. Which, Harry thought, was kind of what just happened.

"Now" she continued into the silence her eyes softening as she once again turned to Harry. "William I understand that you are due to take up a teaching position here are you not? I believe that you have earned the right to choose your own course from the list of those that are currently vacant".

"I have finally decided on which course to teach" said Harry quietly.

"Combat tactics and butchery perhaps?" said Durvan snarkily only to quail under Fae's resulting glare.

"Introduction to ethics and morals for new padawans actually" Harry's response, in contrast to his detractors was mild and professional.

"Unwise, this course is" stated Yoda only to have his opinion completely ignored by both Harry and the Grandmaster herself even as other Jedi voiced their opinions, if more quietly, by muttering in the background.

"Thank you for registering your choice Knight Potter. A schedule and suggested course assignment will be sent to your quarters within the next three days".

Grandmaster Coven looked around the Council chamber and her eyes almost seemed to twinkle at the almost universally disapproving faces. "Are there any other matters that need Knight Potters input? If not I am sure he could use a long rest after being so long away from home".

"The Almania matter Grandmaster" said another Jedi that Harry did not know though ,this time, the voice was less snide and more timid. Harry wondered if the nameless Jedi was always that timid or if the Grandmaster had actually succeeded in scaring them into some form of order.

He mentally shrugged. After all it was hardly his problem either way.

"Oh yes" began Grandmaster Coven "though your right as a Jedi to object on humanitarian grounds has been long documented and accepted in both custom as well as law we cannot reward you in anyway for your defiance of the Council's wishes".

This time Harry did shrug. He was completely unconcerned with the tone of warning in the Grandmaster's voice. He knew that if the same situation were to happen again he would make the exact same choices. Added to that unlike most Jedi he had not only experienced the Galaxy away from the Jedi but had also thrived in it and so he was less than paralysed by fear at the idea of having to do without the Council.

Her next few words did manage to crush the rising hopes of Yoda and his supporters that some punishment or sanction would be befalling Knight Potter as she simply closed with "We cannot punish you either however and hope that you are never forced to choose between someone's wellbeing and the High Council".

Harry nodded and, with almost military efficiency, spun on his heel and left the chambers with only the smallest whisper of sound. The silence in the room was almost deafening and, for a long moment, the loudest sound was that of the door opening and closing behind Harry.

No Jedi spoke for a very long minute until that same soft and timid voice from before

"Master...Why did you not ask him about the problems the Jedi Order is now having with the Almanian System or use him to help boost the abysmal reputation of the Jedi at the present?".

"Because" she answered with a tight smile "it would have done no good. The Almanian's decision to ban every Jedi from the system except Potter and the Orders fall in reptation is not his concern. That is the argument that he will make and he would later further argue that the reputation and the public image of the Jedi is the High Council's concern and, worse than that, he would be right".

"But, caused the problem in the first place he did" argued Yoda.

"He did not" countered the Grandmaster " we Jedi in our hubris caused this well enough on our own. We agreed as a body that we would be unable to intervene without Senate approval but nothing would have stopped us sending medical supplies except a rather callous desire for the war to end quickly. We then compounded the error by ordering Knight Potter home".

"But he took advantage of the situation" stated a human Jedi Master from the corner of Fae's vision.

"He did not" she rebutted "Potter industries did. Need i remind you that Jedi are prohibited from owning things, let alone companies". "Do not forget that other companies did the same thing… Potter Industries simply did it better".

From then on the business of the Jedi Council moved away from the Potters and onto other things

Later that evening Harry was sitting at the two person table in his spartan room slowly sipping some red brick tea as he tried to settle back into Temple life.

The fact was that it was hard to do and just as he began to ponder the rather disturbing implications of why it was hard to do, his door softly chimed.

"Come in" he said softly even as the door slid open and Harry smiled as he saw Knight Lanham walk through his door.

The slightly scruffy looking Orion appeared much the same as he had when they had first met. His eyes may have been a shade more weary but they were still the bright blue of when they had first met all those years ago. His hair was still the same mousy blonde though, even for him, there was more grey there than ever before. As always he radiated a sense of calm that Harry had always struggled for. In short, if Varlya was like a younger sister by this point then Orion was like a beloved uncle and always had been.

The sameness of the man was always a great comfort to Harry.

"That" said Orion nodding "was one of your father's favourite drinks. I remember him telling me that there was nothing better than good quality tea".

Harry remembered it too he wasn't going to mention it though as how he remembered might have been more difficult to explain. Not quite as difficult as explaining the englishman's love of a good cup of tea (especially as he would then have to explain what an englishman was) but close.

Without a word Harry's hand twitched and another cup floated from the small kitchen behind him and then the teapot that was on the table rose and poured Orion a fresh cup of tea.

"How are you doing?" asked Harry.

"I'm good. The life of the underappreciated self sacrificing Jedi suits me don't you know?" Orion joked "I feel that I should be asking you that question though…"

The laughter lines around Orion's face seemed to deepen into shadow as he peered intently at his friend. Harry knew that soon enough he would have to say something as Orion, when he got an idea in his head, was like a dog with a bone.

"I'm fine...I'm just having trouble adapting that's all" Harry responded lightly.

"Sorry..I'm not buying it." Orion argued "I mean don't get me wrong I'm sure it is an adjustment but I've known you all of your life...It's more than that isn't it?"

Instead of responding straight away Harry rose from is chair and moving towards his window he looked out upon the streets below.

"Have you ever wondered what your life would be like if you weren't a Jedi?" he asked

"Not often no. That's hardly surprising though...we are after all raised to this life".

"And that doesn't bother you?" asked Harry silently wondering whether being raised for a role from near birth should constitute brainwashing.

"Not now no..as a younger man….well I did say not often.." said Orion with a small grin.

"A sordid Jedi secret" teased Harry amused "do tell"

"There is not much to tell. I was a young padawan, I had only been chosen by Master Fyan two years prior, nearing sixteen years of age and on assignment on Tellus IV" Orion paused as if to collect his thoughts and then continued "I honestly can't believe I was ever that young and brash… but still, as I said I was nearly sixteen and I was in the capital Andreas. I was running an errand for my master, though what I was sent for I couldn't tell you after all these years except that it fit into a small pouch, and I remember that it was exceptionally hot. My robes were sticking to my skin and my face felt flushed. Given that I stopped in the center of the marketplace to take a drink at the large fountain in the center of it".

Harry saw a particular expression flitter across his friend's face and stayed quiet allowing his friend to gather himself and speak of something that he obviously hadn't spoken about in a very long time, if at all.

"Then I saw her. I remember seeing her hair first, just as the sun caught it. It was almost like the sun itself was caressing her blond locks. Her name was Jai and she was a weaver girl. I remember being captivated by her laugh and the way that her nose crinkled when she was really amused. She was around my age and we spent as much time together as we could in the next three weeks".

For a moment it was almost as if Harry was watching a younger version of his friend meeting a young weaver girl. He could almost smell the dust of the street and feel the baking of the sun on the back of his neck.

"You know...I think I loved her." Orion said wistfully "Fyan found out of course and soon enough he had requested another assignment for us both. When I found out we made these fanciful plans to run away with each other…"

"What happened?" asked Harry

"The Serneki Jedi attack"

"The embezzling company? They attacked a Jedi?" asked Harry.

"Yes" responded Orion "I couldn't just run off without explaining things to my master...not after he had chosen to train me. The morning I went to him was the day of the attack and when I arrived he was already gravely injured and under attack from three people. Needless to say I charged in".

"And so you stayed with the Jedi?" asked Harry.

"Yes. My master was fine in the end but, I couldn't help but wonder, how many lives would I be sacrificing for my own happiness if I had left with Jai. In the end I couldn't bare it and though we both cried and lamented our fate but our romance was done and I never saw her again". Orion's voice was full of sorrow.

"You regret it?" Harry said. It wasn't quite a question but it also wasn't quite a statement either but Orion answered anyway.

"Sometimes. The Jedi Order is a life of service and worthwhile but sometimes..I do wonder".

"There are other vocations that are of service and are worthwhile though" responded Harry.

"Precious few" Orion said and then his gaze turned piercing "After Almania...are you considering leaving the Jedi?".

"I am not sure. After the war...all this politicking seems hollow somehow. There was all that blood and death..all that pain and loss and all the while the vaunted defenders of peace were arguing amongst themselves".

"My advice? Don't make any rash decisions...leaving the Jedi would alter your life forever and you would be unable to change your mind later if you regret it". The genuine concern that not only dripped from his voice but radiated from him into the Force touched Harry deeply.

"I will give it some thought" promised Harry as he shared a quiet moment with his friend each occupied with the past in different ways.

Two Weeks Later

In the middle of the Jedi Temple, underneath the arches of ancient rare wood, surrounded by frescoes and paintings Harry parried another blow of Hakks lightsaber while gracefully falling back into Niman's classic stance. Even in the battlefield whenever Harry had a spare moment (if he ever did) he had kept up his practice and study of the form along with his practice of learning more of Form V and (in secret) Jar'kai. His only regret being that he was unable to try and refine his magic as he could not attempt to do that either in the well publicised battlefield as much as he could not do that in the Temple even in secret.

One of the reasons he kept up this lightsaber practice (aside from the obvious) was that quite a few Jedi had known before he left that he practiced and preferred Niman and he had noticed that Jedi, like quite a few sentients, often gave great weight to that first impression.

He knew, for example that most would still expect to see the quiet and mild scholar that he had projected as his identity before he had left for the war and though that impression may soon end, if for no other reason than the readily available recorded evidence of his prowess, any misconception or underestimation of his combat abilities and, perhaps more importantly, his mastered or preferred styles would no doubt help him.

"I thought you had moved on from this old man's form?" joked a laughing Hakk even as the sparring friends moved in for another round, with Hakk, as was his way, blending small amounts of Form II with Form III enabling him to hit with not only vicious probing thrusts but also devastating counter attacks.

"Tell that to Exar Kun" joked Harry who smiled broadly even as Hakk caused Harry to duck under his friend's pale emerald lightsaber smoothly all the while bringing his into position to counter attack.

"He was a Sith Lord...it...doesn't...count…" gasped Hakk and they began to speed up the tempo of the fight the lightsabers becoming a blur of hot crackling light.

The speed increased so much that the human eye became useless and both men began to sink fully into the Force, sensing and feeling each other rather than seeing. Then they abruptly pulled away to catch their breath.

"Doesn't that armour of yours get heavy" asked Hakk referring of course to Harry's rather unusual dress for a Jedi.

"Not really...battlefield armour is designed to be light" Harry responded "besides you are a fine one to criticise Niman with your brand new hybrid style. Does it have a name yet? No...don't tell me… poke and hope by any chance?".

Hakk laughed but he did not reply, though to Harry, the hilarity seemed a bit forced on his friends part.

Harry's mind was not able to dwell on that nagging thought as Hakk, at twenty four, proved once again why he was considered the most skilled padawan when it came to his skills with a lightsaber. The rumour was that he was due to begin his trials for knighthood any day now.

After a further five minutes of light sparring and with sweat pouring down Hakk's face they paused to rest. Hakk sank to a nearby chair while Harry casually wiped his hair, face and neck with a nearby towel.

"How are you not exhausted?" grumbled Hakk.

"Practice...if nothing else drawing on the Force every single day for combat gives you stamina" said Harry in a careful tone. He did not want to upset his friend as Hakk was quite proud of his abilities with a lightsaber.

As the two friends moved to the corner of the room they sat down at one of the tables in the corner overlooking the sparring mats they heard the sounds of sparring fade into the background and Harry took a good look at his friend. It looked like Hakk hadn't slept well (if at all) in the past few days but, given the now almost completely progressive dominated Temple, Harry couldn't blame him as their home was becoming uncomfortable to say the least.

"Have you heard from Arstonia?" Harry asked understanding his friend enough that if he wanted to talk about what was bothering him he would and if he did not asking would only result in a stubbornly belligerent response.

"She's been traveling around the Mid Rim" Hakk responded, his face softening as always when discussing their mutual friend. " The pirates their have developed something of a monopoly and she and Master Celar were on Boranda posing as smugglers. That was six months ago but the Council assure my Master and I that she is fine" he said with a grimace.

"Well that's comforting" said Harry sarcastically

"Exactly" Hakk agreed.

They would have continued to talk quietly however the door to the sparring room opened and in walked Master Yoda, along with a few other progressive knights and masters.

"Look who's here" said Harry eying their smooth expressionless faces with well hidden distaste.

"Do I have a pulse? If so they're probably looking for me" Harry grinned at his friend even as Yoda's eyes met his. "I guess I should go see what the green rat wants this time".

Hakk's barked laughter was abruptly stilled as Yoda's piercing eyes settled, all too briefly, only to dismiss him and refocus on Harry once again.

As Harry rose and moved over to the small Ataru specialist the conversations from other Jedi scattered about on similar tables stopped. Around the hum of still clashing lightsabers many eyes began to focus on the two Jedi and their well known dislike of each other.

"Master Yoda" said Harry, in a perfectly neutral voice "I take it you wish to spar?".

"If too much trouble it is not" replied Yoda with the smallest hint of anticipation in his eyes.

If Harry was a betting man he would have had to say that this was a progressive stunt . This idea began to solidify into a certainty in his mind when more and more Jedi began to filter into the room, both progressive and not, far more than would ever normally be interested in a weekday spar.

How childish, Harry thought both exasperated and strangely amused, apparently they haven't got anything better to do.

"Of course not Master Yoda. I could use the practice against such an _esteemed_ Jedi Master such as yourself". Given Harry's tone it was unsurprising that a thunderous expression flittered across his face for a moment. Yoda then moved stiffly towards the nearest sparring mat.

Though it was common knowledge that Yoda sought to master all forms of lightsaber combat he had not come close to that at this point in time. Still he had managed to master both the often overlooked Form I as well as Yoda's personal favourite Form IV. Needless to say such achievements had already marked him as one of the rising stars of the Order. With his combat experience and abilities in Niman, not to mention his natural gift with both aspects of Form V, William Potter was beginning to be classed as another.

Given Yoda's determination and drive most people would still bet against William Potter and it would have been a perfectly reasonable response except for one salient point.

This was not William Potter. In fact William Potter never existed there was only Harry Potter and while William Potter had, in theory, spent his formative years in the Jedi Temple bathed in the slightly impersonal warmth of the Jedi Temple. William was well treated and well fed and was at worst scolded for the bad behaviour and assigned chores.

Harry Potter on the other hand had a fragment of the night of his parents murder as his earliest memory. He had lived as a virtual slave underneath those stairs, his toilet was a bucket and his scoldings usually had, at the very least, Vernon's studded belt across his back. All of this did not make Harry overtly cruel (though in all honesty the temptation was there) but it did give Harry a deep resilience and perseverance that demanded that he keep going.

Couple that with his desire to remove or neutralise anything or anyone that would stop him getting what he wanted the most in his life (a peaceful home hopefully with Luna and everything else that was ripped from him that halloween night so long ago) and the contest of wills would be nothing short of spectacular.

That was made all the more true because the thing that Harry desired more than anything else at this present moment was to break Yoda of his holier than thou sanctimonious attitude.

As they faced off each other on the sparring mat a tense moment passed between the two who, at this point, had their sabers lit in their hands with the moment thick with anticipation. It was almost as if for this moment alone the two embodied their differing ideologies and, like some archaic rite of combat, the two champions were about to fight to prove which was correct and which was to be torn down and forgotten like so much waste.

Without warning Yoda lept at Harry trying to overwhelm him quickly by forcing him to defend attacks from odd angles. Harry's footwork was sorely tested in those first few moments as he adjusted to avoiding and parrying the almost feather light probing attacks of the Jedi Master.

In contrast Yoda had to deal with a smooth defence that seemed adept at anticipating the unorthodox attacks that he was furiously trying to break his opponent with.

The surrounding Jedi were entranced by the skill that was being shown by the two combatants during the spar. Yoda was a swarm of fast movements, like a thousand bees surrounding a threat, probing for an opening. He lept and somersaulted mainly attacking from above and the side trying to surprise his opponent.

In response to the speed of the attacks Harry would sway away from those attacks that he could not block dodging Yoda's attacks with the minimum of energy used. He would then suddenly lash out with powerful thrusts and swipes that would have sent Yoda flying if they had managed to connect.

If you were to take away the sound of clashing sabers then you could have been mistaken in thinking that it was a well choreographed dance rather than a spar that, though their sabers were set on their lowest setting, would still hurt and cause light burns if struck. Indeed if you did take it as a dance it was a beautiful one with each participant seemingly anticipating not only each others next move but the five after that.

The skill that they were both displaying had the watching Jedi enthralled and as the fight went into the ten minute mark more and Jedi arrived to watch the beauty and skill of the spar. There had been an idea that in this golden age of peace the combat skills of the Jedi were degrading. That idea was being shown as a lie with the depths of skill that both opponents were showing. There was a grudging respect in each others eyes.

Yoda found it almost impossible to breach Harry's defences while Harry, for his part, found that with the few hits that Yoda had had to block and had managed to send him flying, he had somehow redistributed his momentum so that instead of crashing into the wall he catapulted from it.

With an unspoken agreement both of their free hands came up and they let loose with their gifts, mostly low level telekinetic skills as the training room made stronger Force Powers unwise and the low setting of their sabers made cutting objects in half impossible.

The use of even that much Force ability did push the combat to a new level as the two were both darting around each other. Both were seeking any advantage over the other, no matter how small that may be, and both regardless of the Force were beginning to tire so even the weak Force pushes were having an effect.

It was inevitable then that something was going to give and, spectacularly enough, it began when Harry and Yoda both reached for the Force at exactly the same time in the same way. Both felt more than a moment of surprise at the strength of the other hands (or in Yoda's case claw) splayed almost touching each other as they strove for dominance.

Both of them felt like they were pushing against a thick granite wall that each man was futily throwing themselves against. Their lightsabers, once so important, dipped as the mental battle took all of their concentration. Both men felt the briefest moment of doubt at the strength of the other wondering, if only for a moment, if they would lose.

Harry may have been more Jedi than Wizard by this point (partly due to the fact that he was not the best student before coming through the veil, part of that was his general lack of learning material and part of that was simply the fact that he had been a Jedi longer than he had been at Hogwarts) but he was still Harry Potter. If nothing else he was the definition of stubborn and was used to beating the odds.

With a sound like a thunderclap Yoda was thrown, rather violently given both of their exhausted defences, into the wall directly behind him and his small lightsaber shut off with it's distinctive snap hiss as it left his small green hand.

As Harry turned to leave no one was more surprised than him when when Yoda suddenly sprang up, even as his lightsaber moved back to his hand and reignited, and jumped once again to the attack while his opponent was apparently vulnerable.

Harry however was both tired of the fight and frankly found the whole 'spar' set up to be extremely childish as well as pointless. To that end his palm came up once again and this time, with Yoda both weakened from their long battle and dazed from hitting the wall so hard, Harry didn't just push him away or pick up something he instead picked up _Yoda_.

"Enough" he said softly even as he held Yoda in mid air suspended and unable to move, let alone cause harm.

After slowly putting his lightsaber away Harry called Yoda's to him and, once he had removed the power cell, left it on the table and gently lowered the chagrined Yoda to the floor. After that he strode to the exit with the other Jedi moving out of his way and with Hakk following silently behind him.

"You do realise" Hakk said, breaking the silence as they walked down an empty Temple corridor "that everyone will want to hear your lectures now? At least they will at first...for your sake I hope you are a good teacher".

"What do you mean? How does sparring relate to teaching?" Harry asked his friend. He immediately regretted it however when Hakk began to speak in a put on over the top 'wiseman' voice.

"Everything that you do now will be adding to the legend of the defeater of Yoda...The Jedi Lord" Hakk smirked even as Harry winced at the idea.

Annoyingly enough for Harry's life Hakk was proven right as both the legend of the fight and the visitors to his class were to increase significantly over the next few months.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14 Lessons, Losses

763 BBY

2,890 ATC

Coruscant

"Ethics" said Harry " can provide you with a good framework on which to govern your actions and by extension your life. To a traditional point of view however, it is your _morals_ that are all important as they test your limits and inform who you will become as time passes".

Harry looked around the small auditorium and the attentive faces of the young teenage padawans and grimaced slightly. Some of his students still had trouble grasping the concept that morals and ethics were not the same thing.

"Master" called a small female padawan " what about the Progressive view?" Harry's grimace increased as he reminded himself that this was part of the problem. The majority of the Padawans here were being taught by Progressives and were fed their particular answers.

"The Progressive view, in the main, is that morals are unimportant. They believe that the ethics of the revised code are the authority on every action that a Jedi might take. To them morals only apply when you are unable to interpret the revised code and _only_ in sofar as they help you decipher and follow the code".

Harry's response may have been a little snide in tone but then he was still dealing with overwhelming hubris of the Progressives on an almost daily basis and that would make anyone short tempered.

"Is that not the case?" challenged Myec's new padawan who,like Harry, was human called Michael Sisko. Unlike Harry however he was a Progressive through and through so, although the question was asked with apparent innocence, Harry was not fooled.

"The Jedi Order has no _official_ position on which code is preferred or even how effective they are in comparison to one another" Harry replied easily.

"And your thoughts?" pressed Sisko.

"My duty" harry reprimanded coldly "is to instruct you on morals and ethics and allow you to, as much as possible, make a fair and impartial decision on what system works best for you. My personal opinion is irrelevant". Harrys gaze softened as he moved from the impetuous youth to the others in the class. "I would be doing you a _disservice_ sharing my personal beliefs too much as this is, perhaps, the most important decision you will ever make and it has to be yours. It cannot be mine, your masters or even the Councils...it must come from you".

After his impromptu rant he returned to the topic at hand "The morals and ethics that you adopt are so important because they, more than anything else, will not only shape who you become but will be with you until the day you die" Harry said gravely.

"But I still don't understand why we have to choose" asked the female padawan from earlier even as Harry began to resist the urge to start smacking particularly dense people. "Most sentients don't choose their ethics and, it seems their morals change on a daily if not hourly basis depending on their current situation?".

"We are Jedi" Harry said abruptly "we are raised in a life of service and, unlike most, we willingly go into dark and dangerous situations that could easily result in our deaths or the deaths of others. That is why both a Jedi's morals and ethics are so important as, unlike the majority of the Galaxy, if we make a wrong choice based on them it is not just us that would pay the price but those we protect as well".

Another hand shot up belonging to another student with a question and Harry suppressed the urge to sigh as, on days like today, teaching was very taxing.

"Master would it be immoral if we used the Force to change someone's mind?".

So began another full day of teaching and trying to open young minds. Most of their young minds had, of course, been wedged firmly shut by their Masters making his job that much harder.

It had been two months since his return and the start of Harry's teaching career.

At first Harry found teaching difficult and that fact had surprised him as the had enjoyed instructing the D.A. at Hogwarts. That was until he realised that in the D.A. everyone was there voluntarily and therefore wanted to learn.

There was also the fact that the D.A. was much more action orientated and, Harry conceded, therefore much more in his wheelhouse as opposed to the thought provoking, probing and almost philosophical Ethics and Morals class. It almost seemed to him that he had to change the gears in his brain with every single lesson but he wanted to be more than a Jedi that was good at war.

Is that my fate though? Harry thought with a mental shrug, to be a Jedi soldier in a time of peace? An anachronism to be pushed quietly aside when not needed?

After his initial set back however he did find teaching to be deeply rewarding and began to truly enjoy teaching again. He even began to view it as a holiday of sorts as, after all, he had been through one hazardous situation after another since arriving in the veil chamber (barring his initial Jedi training) and he found it oddly pleasant to exercise his brain rather than his sabre for once.

His progress in trying to teach was both alarmingly fast and far too slow.

Even though Harry had been assigned his classroom for two months he found that his students were not questioning as much as he hoped and that they were still focusing too much on the basic concepts and had yet, by and large, to apply those lessons to their own lives.

On the other hand, though the Traditional Jedi welcomed his views, the Progressives (at least the smarter ones) detested his course and Harry had the impression they would have banned their padawans from his lessons if it were not a required course.

It didn't help that not only did a stout Traditionalist teach the classes but, to them, quite suddenly their handpicked and trusted padawans were now beginning to actively question their lessons and (more alarmingly) some were even debating the opposing view with their masters.

Harry took pleasure in that.

Before long both ideological camps had something more important to worry about and, as Harry was not a member of the High Council and saying they had warm feelings (save perhaps the Grandmaster and she, unlike some, took her oaths as sacrosanct) for him would be a stretch, the first that he knew of it was when a panicked student ran in full pelt and red faced over half an hour late.

Harry would have berated her but neither her panicked state or her lateness was common.

"Whatever is the matter Nyella?" said Harry his voice soft and melodious with just the right amount of caring to calm her without overwhelming the girl. At least that is what he was aiming for and so he was slightly perturbed at her almost hysterical response...at least until the words registered.

"It is Knight Lanham Master" she rambled even as Harry felt a chill shoot down his spine. He could be forgiven that, in his worry for his friend, that he almost snapped at her.

"Well? What about him?" he said sharply.

"He is dead" her reply silenced the class. As for Harry he felt a moment of indescribable loss and, for the first time in a long while, felt all of his years bear down upon him like Atlas being forced to hold up the world. "He was found in a disused room in the Temple. He was murdered".

Around him his students gasped in horror unaware that the true shock had yet to fall.

"He was killed" she repeated slowly as if she couldn't believe what she was about to say herself "with a lightsaber".

Pandemonium erupted throughout the hall.

To say that the reaction to the news of Knight Lanham's death was bad was an incredible understatement. Theories ranged from resurgent and deranged Sith to traitors within the Jedi itself.

Personally Harry knew that it could not have been the Sith. During the time that he spent as their weapon he grew to understand that Darth Bane's plan was a slow one and, at this time, it was not ready. It was also too brazen for the Sith to kill a Jedi within the Temple itself, let alone with a lightsaber.

Harry himself was subjected to a great amount of suspicion due to the Progressive view of him. That and he, amongst a handful of other Jedi, had recent combat experience and the common wisdom was that only a Sith or a Jedi deranged from the crucible of war could ever do such a thing.

Harry half suspected that the main reason the Council did not call him in for review as well as actively investigate everyone he knew was that it would have to include his 'family' and any intrusion into Cadi would lead to the violation of the trade agreement between the Republic and Potter Industries. More than that the penalties for breaking it for the offending party (in this case the Republic) were exceptionally harsh.

Harry should know as he wrote them.

What irritated Harry the most about the situation however more than anything else about the suspicion that he was under was that it was eerily similar to to the Chamber of Secrets fiasco when he was much younger.

In both cases people were certain that he had done something horrendous without a shred of actual evidence. The fact that Orion was his friend and that it could have been said he was a pseudo-uncle to William Potter was conveniently ignored.

That was also the crux of his annoyance. Before it may have been that he was a lonely boy who (not so secretly) desired acceptance after a lifetime of abuse. Now though that wasn't the case, after all, he had seen too much and done too much for that ever to be a factor again. It was more that after the amount of human cruelty, loss,pain and even hope that he had seen he valued nothing (save perhaps Luna) more than friendship and Force knew that it was rare enough for him. He probably, reflected Harry, valued it even more highly now than the once almost friendless adolescent that he once was.

Bottom line Orion was his friend and someone had killed him.

As much as Harry wanted to find out what happened to his friend the chances of him being asked to investigate were virtually nil not only due to him being under suspicion but also because, as always, he was not among the Council's favoured Jedi.

So instead of going with his first instincts and hunting immediately for his friend's killer he instead felt trapped in, what was fast becoming, the monotonous life of a Jedi. The days began to blur for Harry as he suffered through the accusing looks of the Progressives and their impressionable students, he taught as many as he could despite the whispers and almost blatant accusations. To try and take his mind off of it he also occasionally sparred with his friends when they were around.

Yoda had not asked for another round and neither had any of the Progressives as they seemed to not want to poke, what they thought of as, a deranged Jedi killer.

Instead they watched him like hawks and hoped that he would make a mistake even as Harry himself hoped that the killer would be found soon and no other Jedi would die, while finding it all the more frustrating that he could not use his magic to help.

Though, he reflected, that with his limited education, he would find it very difficult to help and even he was unsure how much he could actually help in that regard.

Harry would be disappointed but at least his vambrace did not warm and knowing that no Sith Master was nearby did comfort him somewhat.

Varlya was of course taking it much harder than him as no matter how close he had been to Knight Lanham Varlya had arguably been closer as his former padawan.

In the months that followed there were no more deaths and even though suspicion began to dissipate (though the Progressives were still deeply wary of him) Harry found it a relief to have some good news for a change.

It was a good thing, Harry thought, not just for Varlya but also for Hakk in a way as he had spent a lot of time comforting their friend.

After all it wasn't everyday that someone got knighted.

The night before the actual ceremony Harry was happy to be asked by Hakk to sit with him as he underwent the final vigil along with his former master Varlya Tarvam. Hakk extended this honour over the not so subtle objections of the Progressives. Objections or not however custom and tradition dictated that it was the appointees choice and no one could gainsay that.

It was tradition among the Jedi that, after the tests had been passed and the Council approved the elevation of the chosen padawan to knighthood, that they spend a day and a night fasting and meditating.

This, in theory, allowed the Jedi time to truly meditate on their path and what Force may have in store for them in the future. It was meant to be a time of ultimate self reflection and introspection and though speaking was not often done during this most hallowed of occasions it was the main reason that both Harry and Varlya were with him.

The room that they were in was deep within the bowels of the Jedi Temple and, rather than the high spire which the Progressives preferred, instead it was in a room directly above the Sacred Spire itself. As such it was also one of the oldest rooms in the Temple.

Harry stood there in the empty room next to Varlya and watched his other friend kneel with his eyes closed, Harry felt a well of pride at watching and being part of this most intimate of times.

In fact they were so close to the Spire that harry could feel the power of the Force Nexus below his feet like a second heartbeat. It's lightside aura was so strong that it was almost like being surrounded by a warm bar of lightside energy. The gentle energy caressed his mind and eased tensions that had been quietly building up since the death of Knight Lanham, if not longer than that, and he truly felt relaxed for the first time in a very long while.

Thinking of Orion still brought a great swell of sadness to Harry's mind but that was understandable as it had only been recently that he had died.

Still he was reminded of his own vigil and how both Orion and Varlya had stood with him proudly (he had bucked tradition and not invited his own master) and he could still vividly recall how much solace he had gained from their simple presence.

Harry smiled at the bittersweet recollection and settled into a long night of watching his friend reach into the Force and try the almost herculean task of figuring out where his path was going to take him in the future.

After the ceremony (and the small party that ensued) Harry had come to a simple conclusion. He wasn't very good at waiting and he had waited enough.

With that in mind he did the very thing that his detractors would never expect or want him to do.

He requested a private meeting with Master Yoda though he did so very quietly and told no one.

"Why, asked for this meeting have you, hmmm?" said Yoda. His voice carrying not only his suspicion of Harry but also his deep dislike.

"You suspect me of murder" Harry said bluntly not having time for the use of verbal sparring or even social niceties. Before Yoda could open his mouth Harry gestured for his silence. " I didn't of course, but as I have been to war and you have not, you cannot be certain that I am not hiding anything unless you tried to read my mind and I of course i would know about that". Harry said responding with as much dislike and distrust as he was shown if not more so.

"What then propose do you have?" Yoda asked still not giving an inch to his fellow Jedi.

"Arrest me" he paused then added "the Progressives all think that I've done it and that you are just waiting for proof. After which I will 'escape' which will no doubt convince others of my guilt and hopefully lower the guard of the real killer". Yoda's face would have been exceptionally comical under any other circumstances such was his surprise.

"And?" Yoda prompted.

"And i will leave with a long range tracker embedded into my skin so you know exactly where I am at all times. This will allow us to hunt for the real killer and hopefully stop any future killings of Jedi".

"And if no one dies hmmm?" Pressed Yoda.

"Then you lose nothing and you will have the dubious benefit of knowing exactly where I was at all times" came Harry's quick response.

"Know about the plan then, who should?" asked Yoda intrigued despite his mistrust all the while peering at Harry as if to look into his very soul.

As always it was almost as if the young Potter was not there as, unknown to Yoda, Harry's mind was safe behind very well developed and remarkably strong mental shields.

"Just the Grandmaster and yourself I should say. I do not wish to distrust other Jedi but even I am unsure as to who has done this and they did, after all, use a lightsaber". Harry's brow furrowed " I'd tell her myself but as the Grandmaster's movements are well documented, especially in these times, and I fear it will arouse suspicion if I did. You on the other hand are not a friend to me and would be seen to be acting in my stead. There is also the fact that you are a High Council member and I am not which means you have plenty of reasons to speak to her irrespective of me".

"Why me hmm?" asked Yoda. Harry knew what he meant as there were other Jedi Masters after all.

"Because if anyone gets suspicious or realises that we are talking you can say that we were organising a new sparring match and that I, foolish Traditionalist that I am, let something slip which was enough to lead to my arrest. If pressed you can say that it is for the Council's ears alone and most, if not all, should let the matter drop after that. It does have the virtue of being vaguely believable".

"The other Council members?" Yoda quired

"Say that you are discussing it with the Grandmaster and that, as soon as permissible, you will both discuss the 'proof' of my guilt with the rest of them".

They talked for another hour and a half finalising the details of their plans but, at the end of the night, the plan was settled.

The trap was set.

They came for him the next day. The first way Harry was aware of their approach was the Temple Guardian's boots, making a thundering echo in the early hours of the morning, on the pristine marble floor.

Yoda and Grandmaster Fae Coven (his two co-conspirators) led six Temple Guards towards his door. Harry, expecting them, was not only dressed but also had his sapphire blade unlit in his hand and was striding purposefully out to meet them.

They met each other by the room of a thousand fountains, Harry took a brief moment to enjoy the gentle patter that they caused and enable the soothing patter to soothe his troubled mind.

"Knight Potter" came the voice of the Grandmaster harsh and as cold as a tomb "you are to come with us immediately".

"Why?" his voice, though pitched to carry, was full of artful innocence. It did draw the attention of nearby Jedi though. "And why do you feel the need for Temple Guards if you wish to speak to me Grandmaster?".

One of the nameless Guards, his or her face obscured by the almost ritualistic mask that they all wore, took this moment to move forward aggressively.

"We are here to arrest you traitor" So that answers that, thought Harry, definitely a woman.

"Arrest me for what exactly?" His voice had moved from innocent and clear into mockery by this point.

"The murder of Knight Lanham" was the short reply.

"And why would I murder my friend?" Harry pressed. If it wasn't for the now impressive sneer on his face Harry could have been discussing the weather for all that it showed in his voice. That being said if someone knew him well they would be able to tell by his body language alone that the insinuation itself had sparked a deep and righteous anger in him.

"Who knows why a Dark Jedi does anything" responded the female Guard dismissively even as she reached into a pouch at her side and removed a bulky set of stun cuffs.

Temple Guardians were trained to help protect the Temple from threats but, in this day and age, though they were competent fighters the main prerequisite for them was an undying loyalty to the Order itself.

It was an error that Harry was going to exploit.

Although they were a match for the average Jedi in terms of combat skills there was a large gap between the average Jedi and those of higher skill levels such as Yoda or even Harry himself. Ironically most Temple Guardians were Traditionalists as the Progressives seemed either less adaptable or less powerful.

When harry had first found that fact out he had laughed loud and long. It still amused him to this day.

All of that being said there were six of them which would have taxed even Harry's skill (at least without using magic) if it came to a fight and that was not even taking into account Yoda and Fae. Given that the odds of him winning a direct confrontation were minimal at best, a direct confrontation was never the plan.

Unbeknownst to the six Temple Guards while Harry waited for them to arrive he had slowly and carefully connected to the Force gripping the nearest two light fixtures with the gentlest of touches while angling his body towards large ground floor bay window.

"It is nice to know that my presumption of innocence remains important for all the Jedi" Harry replied with false cheer and enthusiasm in his voice.

"Enough" said Grandmaster Coven with her face set in scowling disapproval. "You will be given a fair trial and judged buy a random lot of Jedi Masters".

"Joy. The idea of being judged by a room full of Progressives appeals so much to me".

"Nevertheless it is what's going to happen" replied Fae and at her nod the Temple Guard as one unit moved forward as they were trained, as one cohesive unit, to neutralise the threat.

"Pass" was Harry's succinct reply. As they moved within striking distance, Harry's hand twitched twice. The two light fixtures came flying out of the wall with pieces of plaster still attached to them hurtling towards the Temple Guardians and Yoda, while Fae took a step back. As that happened Harry dived towards the bay window and went through it with a crash.

Before anyone could react,even those on the street below, Harry quickly pressed a hidden button in his synthetic wrist and was running away from the now broken window.

A small nondescript speeder came screeching round the corner as Harry smoothly jumped in. All of this took no more than twenty seconds at most and, before most Jedi were even aware that something had happened, he was gone and lost to Coruscant's busy city.

Harry only hoped that the recording device implanted behind his right shoulder blade would keep working.

He also hoped that people would take his flight as it was meant to be taken. He hoped it would be seen as the persecution of a, depending on your perspective, innocent man or a trapped murderer. He had left as little to chance as possible, having even left behind the majority of his things in disarray so that it would appear unplanned and all too sudden.

It was amusing to him that one of Harry's most difficult assignments was hunting the now deceased Ter-ldi and that the Dark Jedi had spent his time haunting the many levels of the undercity as that was exactly where Harry now found himself running. At least to the casual observer anyway.

As he was hiding some four hundred floors below, the very Security Forces currently searching for him. He was actually in a cantina that was about as far from Nindo's Diner as possible, he was amused by the fact that the people hunting for him were searching places no self-respecting fugitive would go.

Then again, in their defence, they were hunting a Jedi who aside from his time at war would know nothing about hiding. The best of them might search floor 900 given his history there. They would also watch any all ships leaving, especially those of Potter Industries, and they would believe themselves diligent knowing that a Jedi, without any subterfuge missions in his file, would be ill equipped to run.

Impressions were really hard to break Harry mused.

He sat in his shadowy alcove watching the front door his senses alert for any sign of trouble. His ears were not soothed by the latest opera and he did not see the creme of society here. Instead it was the harsh, slightly off key, noise of cantina music that assaulted his senses and rather than noble politicians and Jedi here he had the dregs of the Galaxy for company.

As he sipped what passed for beer in this place (after all it was hardly the setting for the planet's best alcohol) he felt himself relax slightly enjoying the moment with beings that had no illusions about what they were.

He only wished that the small biological tracking device placed at the bottom of his spine didn't itch so much. Still it was part of the plan and so he drank his drink and waited.

For Yoda. For the Force to tell him something. For any kind of news.

He really didn't like the small tracking device because without it he could have gone to one of _his_ many safe houses and relaxed in luxury and quiet contemplation rather than where he was now. Though admittedly this place did have its perks.

In her private rooms directly below the High Council meeting room Fae Coven was reached out into the force trying to discern the future but sadly she was having no luck.

At 277 years of age the ancient Jenet Jedi had learnt only one thing when it came to scrying the future with the Force and that was that it was incredibly hard. It was very difficult because the future was always in motion of course but, over her long life, she had also come to the conclusion that sometimes the mystical energy that surrounded them simply did not want to share the knowledge of future events.

Call it a test, she mused, call it the fallibility of sentients trying to understand the infinite or any other name for everything in creation but the will of the Force mystified her more often than not.

No, she admitted to herself, part of the problem maybe the fact that with the tension between the so-called Progressives and the Traditionalists she was having a hard time truly focusing her abilities to the task.

It wasn't that she hadn't seen this problem coming she was just unsure about what to do about it and a large part of that problem was her age.

Her species rarely lived more than 90 years but, due to an unstable Nexus of force energy interacting with her as a padawan, she had managed to slow the aging process enabling her to live all of this time and, though she was mentally sound, age did change your perspective.

She had lived long enough that she understood that the Jedi had to adapt to survive. She had lived through the Ruusan Reformation after all and had seen the Jedi change once before. As the Galaxy changed so must the Jedi Order and she hoped, with all her heart, that Yoda's way was the right way.

She well remembered fighting the Brotherhood of Darkness as a young padawan and still felt a shiver as she recalled the schism that the then Master Skere Kaan, a charismatic jewel among the Jedi, had caused in forming and then leading that Dark Order.

It was a wild time of combat and blood, of frustration and anger. It had tested even the best among the Jedi. After the end of the Sith (or so they thought) the peace and tranquility that had come from the restructuring was sorely needed.

Then, as she entered the twilight of her years, Yoda had led the charge for a further change. He had argued, in his own way, that things like The Brotherhood or Darth Revan's Sith Order were symptoms of a larger problem in how some Jedi viewed the Code.

He had advocated, and still did, for the formal and official adoption of Odan-Urr's refinements as the only viable teaching method for new Jedi.

As much as she personally did not like it she had wondered, like Yoda, how many more fallen Jedi turned Sith the order could stand. Such was the strength of not only the force around Yoda but also his convictions (as well as him being a gifted teacher) that many were swayed by the then young Knight's words.

Even Fae herself agreed with a lot of what Yoda was saying and there seemed to be no strong answer to Yoda's progressive viewpoint.

Not until William Potter.

From the very first time that she had helped the young man and, along with other Masters, taught him the basics of the Jedi way he had shown a particularly high level of aptitude with the Force.

It was more than that however, she thought, as in him she saw the hope of her old Masters reborn. He had their fire and passion for life while still managing to balance his emotions with arguably more respect than other Jedi like Durvan.

Then, she charged herself for the unworthy thought, as he was a fine Jedi.

The fact that Durvan was a Progressive and A Jedi master and yet showed less restraint than William was not lost on her however.

In many ways, she mused, William had been born in the wrong time. If he had been born one hundred and fifty years earlier he might have been one of the greatest Jedi masters in the orders history eventually. Yoda's ideas to help the Jedi evolve were in full swing now however and, without the support of the rest of the Council, she wouldn't be able to stop it even if she was sure that she wanted to.

Maybe that was the will of the Force. She certainly hoped that it was. There was something endearing about William Potter and the Jedi would certainly be poorer if the bold and impetuous youth were to leave the Jedi (especially if he took students with him). Add to that the fact that she was generally fond of the young human, it was perfectly understandable why her mind kept turning to him of late.

Take this 'arrest' plan of his. it was bold, simple, unexpected and so audacious that no one would believe that anyone would ever try it and that was why she believed it could work. In short it was classic William Potter as very few people could predict how he might solve a problem.

And, she thought, he always made her laugh even if she in her vaunted position could not always show it.

Even this plan brought a smile to her face. Though it was a shame, she knew, that it took something so horrid as the murder of a Jedi to bring together two long time (at least ideologically) opponents who just happened to be her two favourite and most beloved Jedi.

She did not know if Yoda's way was the right way but she did know what a schism could do to the Jedi. Maybe in this instance, she thought, the fact that Yoda joined the Jedi first and managed to convince a large portion of the Jedi to follow him was indeed the will of the Force.

Meanwhile she spent much of her time behind the scenes trying to prevent another schism of her beloved Jedi order. The course of the Jedi Order was soon to be set and, it seemed, that the force in its Wisdom dictated that it was her role to keep the Order together until it's fate was decided.

Case in point, it was not the Grandmaster who came up with the plan to Knight lanham's kill but William Potter who was seen as the poster child (almost) of the Traditionalist movement and his political opposite Master Yoda.

That was not to say that there was any trust between the two Jedi. Since William's disappearance calls denouncing him had increased (aided by Jedi Masters under Yoda's banner such as Durvan) and Fae was certain that it was only _partly_ due to the plan to catch the murderer of Orion.

As further evidence of his mistrust of Potter Yoda had demanded not only to follow his movements but a recording device to double check everything he said. That way, if there was another death, William could be ruled out.

William to his credit didn't bat an eye at the conditions, she fondly remembered, only stating that he was touched Yoda cared about him so much in his faintly mocking voice.

Now both she and Yoda waited. Given the Jedi orders rather Swift condemnation of one of their own both William and Yoda believed that the actual murderer (if not William) was trying to make it appear to be him in an attempt to discredit or harm him.

With William currently 'on the run' it was hoped that Orion's killer would take advantage of the fact that William Potter could easily be blamed for any further attacks. If it led to the murderer being apprehended or even killed in the act so much the better.

That was why William was on high alert being a likely target, as was Yoda, with Fae being the only other Jedi in on the plan. She was aware that this was as much as a contingency in case something happened to either of her fellow Jedi as much as it was due to their mutual distrust of each other. After all, it was reasonable to assume, that either William or Yoda would be the next target.

Suddenly the Force rippled in warning.

They were wrong.

It was ironic that the Grandmaster was having no luck sensing the future as, as soon as Harry had offered himself up to the Force, it had opened itself to him in return nudging him down the path of foresight.

Seemingly as he sat there his eyes were locked on nothing at all as the Force gently coaxed him away from the material world and into the nether regions of the Force.

He however was not a trained seer. As such the images were unclear and confusing at first and he had a hard time distinguishing anything of any substance in a place that looked like shadows made of smoke and vapour.

Eventually he was able to begin to see things regardless however. He first saw himself and a few others, most notably both Arsonia and Varlya, break away from the Jedi and they (with around fifty others) set up a home for themselves near Cadi.

Then it all soured. He watched with mounting horror as an almost overpowering evil (represented in the vision as a dark fetid and ichor like water) came down upon first the Jedi Order and then their new home. Both were utterly and completely destroyed. More than that, Harry sensed, that if this vision were to come to pass then the great evil would never stop. Instead it would keep consuming everything until even the stars themselves were burned out and it finally ended with no life left to use or corrupt anywhere in the Galaxy.

Then, blessedly, the vision reset and Harry saw himself leave the Jedi alone. In this vision he was still faintly glowing, with the Force he assumed, however when the tide of darkness came it did not immediately strike out at him. Instead it reached, far more slowly, to begin to choke the Jedi in their very Temple and left both him and Cadi untouched.

The vision rippled and changed again but, unlike the last time, nothing reset. Instead it felt more as if this vision was a continuation of the last and even as it began to unfold tears sprang from his eyes.

He saw war.

Not in the style of glossed remencient stories that poets write about or songs were sung about but rather its dark brutality.

He saw the death of millions, maybe even billions, and through the Force, he _felt_ them. For a single eternal moment he felt each individual's fear and pain, one after the other countless times, each story unique and yet blending into an agonised whole.

Then the vision moved and he almost panted with the simple joy of not feeling such agony. The horror, for Harry, was sadly not done however.

He saw the Jedi at the head of an army fighting against both a shadow and one of their own and it felt like, if he were to just listen, he could hear their shouted orders, their pleas and their pain. The then saw those very same soldiers that had once helped the Jedi move towards the Temple with murder in their hearts. He also could feel the frighten children huddled and lost within.

Then the visions began to fade from his eyes but, as they did, he was given a gift for all that he had been forced to witness. He saw Cadi, much changed from the one that he knew (though he couldn't tell how much as it was just a glimpse), and felt a wellspring of light spring forth like a roaring lion to combat the dark.

Shaking from the emotional battering that he had just suffered through he almost jumped when the Force practically screamed at him. His mind was still foggy and feeling almost drunk from the visions he, almost too slowly, realised where the sense of danger was coming from.

The remnants of his old Padawan Bond.

Harry abruptly cursed himself for being so stupid in all of the sixteen languages that he knew. Tuspin Myec was in life threatening danger.

Myec was disappointed with the other Jedi. It wasn't that the majority of Jedi believed that William was dark that he had an actual problem with though, as he himself believed that his former student had fallen.

No the problem he knew, while he was walking the deserted halls heading towards the archives, was that some were actually blaming him for William's fall.

As if his perfectly acceptable training methods were to blame for such awful choices. Still, due to other people's judgements alone, he was heading to the Archives to review every piece of information on William Potter to hopefully find where he fell and prove that his teaching methods had nothing to do with it.

He had even watched as Master Durvan had, with the backing of the like minded Masters, set off to explore Cadi and hunt down and find information on any and all of Potters doings that he could find.

The fact that it _technically_ violated an agreement between Potter Industries and the Republic was inconsequential when it came to hunting a Dark Jedi in their view.

The problem with this self-absorbed Jedi's 'secret' search late at night was that his version of secret was about as subtle as a rampaging elephant. This meant that almost anyone with half a brain could figure out that he was looking into William Potter.

It was unsurprising then that, although he had never been the strongest Jedi, as he turned to enter the Archives the Force whispered a small warning and he barely managed to get his arm raised up instinctively even as he half turned towards the feeling.

He promptly lost that arm at the elbow to a blood red blade.

He fell back with a screech of pain as the agony shot through his system and he looked up to see a robe enshrouded figure with a double bladed lightsaber.

"I don't know why you bother" Myec gasped "we all know who you are, my former padawan, so why do you hide?".

"You think" came the darkly amused response "that I am Potter?" The name Potter dripped with anger when spoken by the hooded figure.

Myec blanched at hearing the familiar voice and could only stutter out nonsense while his eyes focused trying to peer into the darkness. Finally he managed to speak.

"Hakk?" Myec whispered even as, with a flourish, the hungry red blade came quickly towards Myec's chest.

Just before the bloody red blade pushed into Myec's heart a deep sapphire blue Blade flew, as if from nowhere, deflecting the thrust away from the Jedi Masters shock riddled and prone form.

"Master Myec" snapped the running Harry Potter " it's nice to know that _you_ never doubted me".

Turning to his friend Harry's brow furrowed in confusion "Why are you doing this?".

Hakk smiled and harry could not help but notice that the smile was without feeling and his eyes, once so warm, were dismissive and full of hatred.

"Why turn against the Jedi?" Hakk asked incredulously even has Harry called his lightsaber back to his hand and his former friends attention turned fully to him with the Jedi Master instantly forgotten. "Surely even you can tell they are hypocritical and self-absorbed" Hakk's eyebrow quirked upwards " but you did not mean that did you?" His face twisted into something almost unrecognisable and inhuman. " you meant why did I betray you but here's the funny thing...you betrayed _me_ and... You! Don't! Even! Know!".

Hakk punctuated each shouted word with a wild swing at Harry and although he was clearly learning Juyo he was not yet a master of the form and Harry managed to deflect both of his double blades.

"Oh?" said Harry " I suppose I might have missed something but then so did you" he smiled at the mixture of confusion and rage on his former friends face even as it twisted even further. "Whoever trained you missed a few steps" Harry mocked gently seeking to put his opponent on edge and soon he found that he had achieved his goal.

"This is not about Set Harth. This is about Astonia" Hakk snarled and he was so annoyed by William's almost blank face, almost as if Harry didn't care at all, that he continued to snarl and rant culminating in "She is mine. Mine!".

Unbeknownst to Hakk Harry's almost blank expression was due to Occlumency but, behind his shields, he was raging. Harry also effortlessly deflected Hakk's wild attacks and couldn't help but dryly respond to the hateful words pouring from Hakk.

"Arstonia is her own person" to which Hakk screamed and seemed to almost physically give himself more fully over to the Dark Side. The Shadows seem to lengthen and Hakk's eyes were now an ugly burnt orange.

Harry's eyes widened as he felt the build up in the Force and he braced himself for something bad.

Myec did not and as Hakk screamed his rage the Darkside empowered it so that the very ground near him cracked and the air reverberated with his rage.

At this point Myec was closer to Harry's former friend than Harry himself was. The effects of Force Scream were sometimes devastating to the unprepared and, when it was done, Myec was bleeding from his ears, nose and mouth and slumped to the ground actually dead.

Harry had, had enough by this point and so he went on the attack. Hakk soon realised that the only reason he had not lost in the first few exchanges was Williams lack of familiarity fighting against the double bladed saber.

Neither man noticed but they're fighting had become loud enough to draw a crowd as they began to move towards the Temple's main exit.

Hakk kept snarling and even spitting while screaming about Astonia as they began to move down the steps and onto the main entrance and the Processional Way.

"Well I'm not fighting for her!" Screamed Harry almost face to face with his former friend whose only reply was to continue try and kill him.

Eventually Harry managed to knock his friends saber out of position and brought up his mechanical hand, his spare lightsaber slapping into his palm, then he speared his former friend swiftly through the chest.

Hakk's saber fell from his nerveless fingers even as his knees buckled.

"You'll never get her now you know?" Hakk whispered.

Harry moved and cradled his former friends head. Hakk was still broadcasting his feelings of love, loss, pain and hatred.

"I'm sorry this twisted you up so much. I never wanted _this_ …" Harry responded.

As a last gift to his friend, however much of his friend was left in that twisted shell, Harry opened up his mind fully for him so that, in his final moments, Hakk could understand truly that there was never any competition.

In a blink of an eye Harry shared his unique beginnings and his life up until this point. He shared his shock that his friend had not come to him or Astonia and his horror at how easily he had been recruited as well as his genuine sympathy for all of that.

Above all else though he shared Luna as she, or the idea of her and all she represented at least, had become a central fact of his existence. He simply would not have looked at Astonia in that way...not ever.

To Harry Hakk, in his final moments, managed to find himself beneath all of the pain and anger that had been twisted in him and his eyes softened.

"Oh I have been such a fool" Hakk whispered even as death began to claim him.

In that moment Hakk managed to pass away a Jedi as he, with the last of his strength, managed to mesh their minds and communicate as much information to Harry as he could before swiftly slipping into the void.

Harry managed to get a lot of details about Set Harth and, once he had swiftly organised it for later review, he gently closed his dead friend's eyes.

Then he looked up, tears in his own eyes, to be met by the wary and distrustful eyes of the now surrounding Jedi.

 _A/N fixed on or two minor errors inclusing, notably, using Varlya's name when I meant Arstonia's. It's near xmas and so I have little time which means, gasp of horror, I am back to speech to text for the next few chapters. If anyone notices errors I would welcome the input so I can fix them..._

 _GC_


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15 : A Parting Of Ways And The Remodel Or Harry's Rant

763 BBY

2,890 ATC

Coruscant/Cadi

Things proceeded with a sense of broken clarity for Harry soon after that. He barely remembered the other Jedi being calmed by the quiet words of the Grandmaster or the looks of shock among the Jedi that one of their very own rising stars was in fact an avid practitioner of the Dark side of the Force. The fact that they had believed that of William and he was not had not seemed to sink in yet.

Instead he was lost in his own private grief.

One of his best friends had killed another but, instead of feeling angry, he just felt lost. His anguish was a sea that was slowly drowning him and he found himself, without knowing why, standing there and taking large breaths while looking into the middle distance but seeing nothing of what was currently around him.

Instead he was lost in a lifetime of memories. He remembered meeting his friend for the first time (they were in the same clan after all) and he also remembered how Hakk had laughed at the stupidest of things and how, when he was very young, he used to talk to Harry in the middle of the night to try and ignore his fear of the dark.

Harry's eyes refocused and drifted back to the face of his old friend and, oddly enough, his face did not look at peace but rather it looked lost and alone as well as a little sad.

Thanks to the brief mental contact between the two men Harry understood that, although Hakk's love for Arstonia was a factor, Sett Harth had used not only his desires but also the dissatisfaction and division amongst the Jedi (as well as the stress and turmoil it had caused) to twist his friend into a hate filled murderer. He had done such a good job of it in fact that Harry had no doubt that Hakk would have killed him too.

What Sett gained in return, aside from an agent with which to further his own desires, was information on the Jedi order. He learnt of its strengths and its weaknesses as well as the increasing strength of the Progressive minded Jedi.

He knew from his friends memories that Harth had laughed loud and long about that and the fact that due to this change in both his opinion and, Harry was loathe to admit his own, they willingly weakened themselves by divorcing (or at least trying to) emotion from both their acts and themselves.

When Harry looked up again he found something that managed, for the moment, to pull him out of the spiral of his grief and straight into anger which he barely was able to clamp down with his occlumency.

Yoda's accusing eyes.

He met that look with one just as equally accusing. Harry almost verbalised the thought that it was Yoda's fault not his. After all, he thought, if you had not been so backward or timid about emotion and allowed Jedi to fully express themselves without fear of reprisal or condemnation we could have nipped this in the bud before it became an issue.

Still the fact remained that three Jedi were dead with one of them having murdered the other two. The reason Hakk had done that was very simple, like his attack on Master Myec, Hakk had killed Master Lanham only because he feared discovery.

There was no great reason for it, Harry thought mournfully even as tears slipped down his face despite himself, they were both just in the way and therefore had to be removed.

It was all just so senseless.

It was perhaps quite understandable then when, within half an hour of all this happening, Harry was brought to the council for debriefing. That he was both without a trace of his usual humour or his limited patience was ignored or overlooked.

It also didn't help that, in the meantime, he had had the trackers removed and was in a great deal of pain from it.

Standing before them now (less two members as Durvan was absent as well) they seemed so small... so useless in the grand scheme of things. Then again weren't we all in the grand scheme of things? Harry wondered.

Quite a few of the High council Members looked sheepishly at him, not quite meeting his eyes, and having in his absence derided both him and the Traditional Way coming to the collective conclusion (like most sheep) that that was the reason that he had so clearly fallen to the Dark side.

Now they had to eat their own words and backpedal.

Under other circumstances Harry would have found this deeply amusing but instead he just felt mind numbingly tired.

"Knight Potter you have done us a great service" began Grandmaster Coven causing Harry to wince despite himself. "You have not only born ridicule and unjust accusations but you devised a plan to find the real culprit and neutralised them".

Here she paused and cast a withering glance in Yoda's direction before continuing "The majority of the Council, in light of this and your other many contributions, wish to offer you a seat on the council as a Jedi Master. This is a great honour as well as a deep responsibility especially during this time of transition".

Harry cocked an eyebrow as a whole series of alarm bells began ringing in his head.

"A time of transition Master? I'm not sure I understand.."

"We are moving forward as a unified whole" she responded with a decisive tone to her voice. "We have suffered too much disagreement and, having lived through a schism of the Jedi, I will not allow it to continue until it has reached that point again".

"And all of this means?" Harry prodded.

"That we are allowing only Odan-Urr's refinements to be taught as of today. All current Traditional Jedi will be required to use the refinement by Council edict and anyone who does not will never be a Jedi in this Order. Exceptions will be made for the very old as we, as a council, understand that it might be too much for them in their advanced age to adapt to a new system".

"How generous" spat Harry sarcastically "and my role is to what? Be a poster child of the transition showing others how easy it is?" The other Jedi bristled at his accusing tone though Yoda and the Grandmaster remained calm.

"I would not have put it that way" Fae responded softly whilst seeking to calm the Knight in front of her.

"I would" Harry said softly.

With these cold words the atmosphere in the room changed considerably. Where as before there has been a sense of certainty, even one of victory, now the Jedi Masters shifted uncomfortably and were forced to entertain the idea that there may be an ideological war that could tear the Jedi apart.

This possibility frightened them as, despite some of the Masters best efforts, Knight Potter was still loved by many and (especially after defeating Yoda) he was seen as _the_ Traditional Knight which of course was one of the many reasons that they were offering him a seat despite the fact he had never taken a Padawan.

If they could not convert him, came the collective thought, how hard would it be to convince the others?

They were saved going further with that train of thought by the ominous beeping coming from Harry's personal communication device. Harry's face took on a worried look as that particular channel was only used in dire circumstances.

"If you will excuse me for a moment Masters this is my emergency channel and may be something of importance. I will return to you with my answer presently."

If the Council thought that Harry leaving the chamber to take a call was irregular they wisely held their tongues perhaps hoping that when he returned he would be more open to their ideas.

They were sorely mistaken, if his thunderous expression was anything to go by, as he entered the room again a few minutes later.

"Would anyone like to explain to me" Harry began in a soft dangerous and silky tone of voice "why the Jedi Master Durvan was caught snooping… spying... around Cadi without previous verbal or written permission and _in direct violation of the Potter Trade Agreement_?!"

The Council was stunned to silence with the vehemence in his tone.

When no voices were forthcoming Harry's demeanor became one silken and one full of mock sorrow. "Then it falls to me to pass on the message of my brother Arthur Potter the current head of Potter Industries. The contract is voided, as far as Potter Industries is concerned, as it is the Republic's fault full restitution is required as outlined by the penalty clauses".

A dimmer (Harry thought they were all dim at times) member of the Council snorted at that not realising the implications of that.

"So we buy no more Potter droids. I hardly see the problem" the nameless male Master scoffed.

"The problem dear Jedi" Harry said still in his silken tone of voice " is that all Potter property is being recalled and that, by the terms of the penalty clauses, is everything we have ever loaned, gifted or sold any member of the Republic excluding the speeders sold by Potter's Triumph".

"But the Hospitals! The Schools!... Dear Force the no interest loans made to the Republic" the dim one gasped only to be interrupted by Harry.

"Which are now due back _with ten percent interest immediately_ "

"You will bankrupt the Republic! Why would the negotiators ever agree to such a travesty?"

"You have done that yourselves! As to why they agreed? When my ancestor negotiated the contract he insisted on the harsh penalties for both parties and the activation, on the Republic's part, was only one line that they thought would be easy to avoid. All he wanted was the privacy of his family...my family… and their place of birth to be left alone. That did not seem too much to ask for the negotiators then as he was giving so much in comparison to other agreements and when you factor in that he was representing such a small system when compared to the vastness of the Republic it was easy for them to agree. After all he did not even ask for so much as much as partial membership in the Republic. My own citizenship, if you remember, is conditional on being a Jedi".

He stopped and thought for a moment and then added "Believe me the penalties were positively pedestrian compared to some that the Republic negotiators put in if the Potter family broke the agreement".

"And what were those clauses?" asked Fae generally interested. Master Yoda, on the other hand was silent, obviously lost in thought at this new and unexpected problem.

"Irrelevant as the agreement is now null and void" Harry said simply.

"We will stop you doing any such thing" argued the same dim Jedi further only to pale slightly at Harry's shark like smile.

"So the vaunted fairness of the Jedi and the altruistic noble Jedi Order condones thievery now does it? For shame".

Harry then, seeing that he had the Masters spellbound in shock at his scathing rebuttal continued educating them on the facts of their situation. "Besides it hardly matters if you do try as the penalties are already being acted on and, in the relevant cases, the self destruct command has been sent. As for the buildings that are now in the hands of Potter Industries? They are being demolished as we speak and the land transferred to Potters Triumph, in which my brother is the largest shareholder, for the total amount of one single credit. It's a handy thing having a separate corporate entity isn't it?".

Harry was beginning to get tired explaining the facts of life to these...people. After all on one of the worst days of his life they had effectively dragged him in here, without a care for his obvious grief, and offered him what amounted to a trojan horse so he thought it was time to try and wrap it up.

"On top of that a formal notice has been sent to the Senate detailing exactly how the penalties were activated and by whom" Harry paused as if he had forgotten something. "Oh it has also been sent to every news outlet to be broadcast over the Holonet and, if previous experience teaches us anything, they will be broadcasting the news right now. I think that the Order has enough to deal with right now don't you?".

"But the Republic has done nothing" pleaded Fae interjecting her own viewpoint firmly on the proceedings with a resolute attitude. "Rather it was the Jedi that made the error in judgement".

"Error in judgement indeed" mocked Harry "The Jedi are _agents_ of the Republic even a Youngling knows that. Their agents broke the agreement ergo the Republic has broken the agreement and caused the penalty clauses to be enacted. You also can't plead ignorance as I personally know there is a copy of the agreement in both the Senate Public Law Library and here in the Jedi archives. For that matter ignorance is not a defence nor should it be one that the Jedi Order is making...or have you forgotten the Code? There is no ignorance..".

The Jedi Council were swiftly coming to the conclusion that, as succinct and scathing as William Potter could be, it was much worse when he was angry, grief stricken and in pain.

"As a final thought" Harry added "I personally think you should be very glad that Potters Triumph was set up after the original agreement was signed and not subject to it or you would have lost your speeders too".

"Surely you mean us don't you William?" beseeched Fae with a dawning realisation percolating in the back of her mind "after all you are also a Jedi".

"Once maybe" Harry disagreed. He then slowly unclipped his lightsabers from his belt (he had both placed them there and removed the focusing crystals out in the hallway as he had _earned_ those) and let them fall with a almost unnaturally loud thunk to the ground.

It would be over an hour later and much arguing over who was to blame before they realised they were without crystals though.

Harry would be long gone from their sight by then.

"This Order" Harry continued now glaring openly at them "is at least as responsible for Hakk's death as I am for stabbing him. What's worse is that by your actions, or inactions, a situation arose where you made me kill him for you". If they thought he was done they were wrong as he continued " Apart from violating decades old agreements and my personal dislike for you all I find myself disappointed and amused that _any_ of you would think that I would help usher in the death of the Jedi Order as I know it with a smile on my face. In return I would get what? A token elevation to Master? What a nice and shiny bobble." His spleen was now almost completely vented Harry did not feel like ranting anymore no matter how captivated or uncomfortable his audience had become.

"In case that's not clear to you that's a resounding no on your offer by the way. Please do not add me to the Lost Eighteen as I don't want to be associated with you in any way. Any association would sully me almost as much as the blood you have put on my hands. I will be gone within the hour".

As he turned to leave the Grandmaster seemed to break out of her rant induced stupor and called out to him in shock

"But what of the Republic" she asked trying, possibly, to invoke some sense of duty within him. If that was her plan she realised it had failed, if not by the meaning of his words, then by the acidic tone of his reply.

"You can all go fuck yourselves" was his eloquent and succinct response.

With that the Republic entered into a new Dark Age of trouble and strife that would see people starve, borders shrink and would last over fifty years. Only a few worlds, such as Almania, would be relatively untouched and even in some cases enriched.

Ten minutes later Harry had packed his meager belongings and was turning to leave with them over his shoulder as he was suddenly faced with the last person he wanted to see in that moment.

Arstonia.

"So it's true then?" she asked without waiting for any pleasant greetings.

"That I'm leaving?" said Harry "Yeah" Arstonia studied her friend's face for a long moment before her voice turned almost heartbreakingly mournful.

"Why?" she asked and Harry couldn't help but flinch at such a loaded question.

"Lots of reasons" came the reply "Yoda. Knight Lanham's death. The Progressive Movement. The Grandmasters willingness to go along with it all just to name a few".

"And Hakk?" She asked.

"And Hakk" he agreed.

There was a very pregnant pause at that moment. Arstonia seemed to be studying his face as if she could memorise every single detail, from his bright green eyes to his to his messy hair, and then seemed to struggle internally before she abruptly snapped out of the train of thought that she was in.

"I could go with you?" she half commented and half asked.

"You belong with the Jedi" he said simply and he saw her face fall as he said it.

"Is this because of Hakk...his feelings I mean?" she asked softly and his only response was an enigmatic smile.

"Here" he handed her a small disk almost the size of a small plate "If you or your family ever need me or my family...just press the button at the bottom".

"Jedi don't have family" she pointed out.

"They have Padawans and I have no doubt that whoever you choose will not only be a good Jedi but a wonderful person. I suggest passing it to them when they become Knights but that is Jedi business. Not my call".

"I understand" she said softly sounding broken.

Why shouldn't she, thought Harry, one of her friends was dead and another was leaving her life...possibly forever.

"For my part I will always regret that our flirting, our joking, helped send Hakk down his path" he said sadly as he left the room and, by extension her life, without another word.

"It was never a joke to me" she whispered as tears began to slowly fall down her face.

Within minutes Harry was on board the _Patience_ (it was truly his now after all) finally heading home and, having closed the book on his time as the Jedi, feeling a great weight that he hadn't been consciously aware of lift from him.

Cadi

On the surface Cadi had not changed much in the years that he had been away. His house was still as he left it and both it and it's gardens had been well maintained by the small army of droids that he had instead of a human staff.

When viewing it with his magical senses however Cadi couldn't have been more changed. Before the artificial ley lines on the planet roughly spread out around half the magical saturation that was present on Earth (what with careless industrialisation blocking many of the ley lines on Earth). It was like a soft glow in the back of his mind that most wizards (even himself) were not even aware of and, in fact, it was only when he landed on Dantooine that he first noticed it's absence.

Now, thanks no doubt to the Geo Forge that was consuming and returning slightly more magic than it used with every creation, he did not need his senses to feel the power of his home.

The very air thrummed with it.

Harry may have used the Infinite Empires technology and he may have understood the very basics of it but the makeup of the Geo Forge was still beyond him and probably always would be. He had come to the conclusion however that this excess power generation probably either helped decay of the Empire or caused it out right.

The Infinite Empire fed their Star Forge with the Dark side of the Force and the power of a sun. Given that they must have become riddled with it's toxic energy even if, at some point in their past, it wasn't the only side of the Force that they used.

Harry was never more glad after that conclusion that he chose to feed his Geo Forge with magic instead although it still did have some effect on the world itself.

The grass was an impossibly pure shade of green and the air felt too thick in some ways but it was also not oppressive. If Harry had to think of a word for it he would say that it just felt...good..almost nutritious.

It wasn't that he hadn't thought this, or something like this, would happen eventually it was more the fact that it all happened in the few years that he'd been away.

Then again magic tended to be unpredictable in its raw state (one of the many good reasons why no one since Merlin had tapped a ley line directly). This was how, on Earth at least, dragons, phoenixes, veela and all other magical creatures evolved and the unpredictable nature of it was also one of the many reasons why early wizards began to develop wands and staffs.

Judging from the fact that droid Hermione was coming to meet him directly off his ship rather than wait for him at the house he had a feeling that his surprises were just beginning.

"What is the matter?" He asked as she approached.

"I would not say anything is the matter Master Harry. It is simply that certain things may need your attention".

"Such as?" Asked Harry.

"The Jedi Master demands his immediate release…"

"Of course he does" snorted Harry.

"Indeed. He has been quite annoying about it" Harry was amused that her personality traits were still developing but surely he hadn't heard irritation in her voice? "Aside from him, magic has had an effect on the planets minerals".

"How so?" Asked Harry.

"The local iron has been in imbued by the local magical field. It has now been 'charged' for lack of a better term with magic itself".

"What has that done to the iron exactly?" He asked.

"It is difficult to quantify as magic has never been studied by the Infinite Empire however essentially, aside from being magical, the iron has gained a greater resistance to energy and trauma. It is, in theory, as strong as phrik but it is also over three times lighter despite the fact that the laws of physics disallow that".

"Magic tends to bend physics over and do horrible things to it" muttered Harry.

Their conversation was halted by the playful chasing of a dragon by a phoenix in the sky and, after Harry had watched for a moment, he turned back to Hermione "The breeding programme is a success I see".

"Yes Master Harry. We have been able to breed out the more violent tendencies of the breeds that we have here. Combining that with their unexpected passivity around phoenixes and they are almost positively docile".

She paused for a moment and then continued "There is one matter… many in the Republic are not just refusing to return your property they are actually trying to keep it by force".

"Target the affected units with the firesale protocol and bill the Republic for all the good that it will do. Include a list of perpetrators so that their errant citizens can face the appropriate punishment for theft. Have our initial reparations been interrupted?".

"No Master...though the Republic has managed to put a block on any further penalties we moved too quickly for them to stop the execution of the original Potter Trade Agreements penalties".

Hermione pulled a Master Runestone from a hidden slot in a panel on her leg. All units sold to the Republic had a set of concealed and powered runes next to their internal battery and with a hard press on the corresponding runes on the stone they were activated.

In moments the affected droids were little more than piles of burning scrap as all internal components in them overheated and then melted beyond all usefulness.

Theft, Harry thought, was not to be tolerated.

Harry then sighed and, wanting to get his problems over and done with, quickly said

"Take me to the Jedi".

Master Durvan was not having the best time during his enforced 'holiday' on Cadi and more than that he was mortified at how easily he had been discovered.

He had barely landed on the seemingly droid infested world before he was surrounded by six of them armed with phrik blades that demanded his surrender in their odd synthesised voices.

He had tried to inch his hand slowly towards his lightsaber but, before he could activate it or try for a diplomatic solution from a position of strength, he found blades at his throat.

He still didn't understand how a group of droids could manoeuvre almost as quickly as a Jedi. He did realise that never learning the ionize ability had been an error on his part.

He hadn't even managed to to see a single organic to explain that he was here at the behest of the Jedi Council. When he had tried to explain it to them he was met with the kind of cold silence only droids can produce.

Over his justifiable protests (at least in his mind) they had manhandled him into a pair of manacles and thrown him into a room the size of a broom closet. After that they had, quite aggravatingly, simply guarded him and kept up that cold wall of silence by refusing to answer any of his questions.

He would have been enraged if he knew that, at one time, his accommodations had indeed been a broom closet.

A different droid, one which looked a lot less combative and much more like a protocol droid, even had the audacity to attempt to question him. Him, he thought arrogantly, they thought to question a respected Jedi Master as if he was some common street thug or a hooligan trying to sell death sticks.

Worse yet for the normal fastidious and clean Jedi was the fact that he stank. They had not allowed him to shower (there certainly wasn't one in his cell), his toilet was a bucket and when they had 'escorted' him here they had not only taken away his lightsaber but had placed a Force Suppression Band on his head. For the first time in his life he could not reach into the Force for guidance or even simple comfort.

In short it was terrible as after all a Jedi without the force was a bit like a juggler with no hands.

He didn't notice the primitive wards (Harry found his rune book handy if somewhat outdated) that would act like a force field even if he did somehow manage to overpower his captors. He also didn't know that at present the only organic life form that wouldn't trigger the wards was Harry himself.

He was not worried though as the Council knew where he was and he was sure they would come for him. Then these harassing droids would fully understand the power of a Jedi Master and learn, in the remaining nanoseconds of their lives, why they should always be respected.

As he was daydreaming over exactly how he would destroy these droids over the indignity that he was forced to suffer the door opened and his head snapped up as he fully intended to give the questioning droid a piece of his mind.

Only it wasn't a droid who came through the door but rather the person that (as far as he knew) the entire Republic had been trying to find.

"Potter" he spat. He managed to look up at the fallen Knight with such disgust in his eyes that he was sure the man would quail under the glare.

Infuriatingly all the arrogant boy did was smirk at him.

"What ever is the matter Master?" Potter said with his face a picture of artful innocence and his voice dripping with false concern. "Do you not like your guest quarters?".

"I should have known that you were behind this…. this travesty!" Durvan paused and then sneered "But what else can anyone expect from a murdering Dark Jedi?".

What was it, Harry idly wondered, that made some Jedi so incurably stupid. After all here was the supposed wise Jedi Master, chained and effectively powerless no less, and the first thing that he did was insult him?.

Harry shook his head and then assumed an air of nonchalance.

"Bit behind the times there I'm afraid mate" Harry said conversationally. " It turns out that I am not a murderer or a Dark Jedi after all, in fact, I caught the real murderer in a rather simple trap".

"You deliberately misled the Council" Durvan raged with his vaunted calm absent after his humiliating captivity " you will be punished for this impudence".

"Wow. I honestly thought you didn't know that many big words" Harry replied with venom dripping from his voice "but, I am afraid you are mistaken, the Council or at least Yoda and the Grandmaster did know... the rest of you simply misled yourselves all on your own".

"I don't believe you! Yoda would never…" insisted Durvan.

"I don't really care what you believe" interjected Harry still marveling at how someone who could be considered so wise could really be this dense.

"Regardless" ordered the obtuse Master " as your superior I demand that you release me and see me safe back to the Temple".

"My superior?" Harry chuckled "Hardly. Though I am sure that both the Jedi and the Senate want you back considering how you are responsible for the largest financial crisis in the Republic in over eight hundred years".

Seeing Durvan gobsmacked caused Harry to chuckle even harder and Durvan to redden in anger and embarrassment. " Did you not think of the agreement you were breaking in coming here or did you simply not care?" Harry let that idea sink in for a moment. "Besides which I am no longer a Jedi".

Harry had to give the dunce some credit as he recovered quite quickly from that news.

"The Jedi have right of way throughout the Republic and can go where they please" Durvan's sneer, which had faltered for a moment, returned in full force. "Though I am glad that the Jedi have finally seen through you and thrown you out".

"To start with the most important point... we are not in the Republic we are in fact in my _home_. No agent of the Republic is allowed or is welcome here. You also have it wrong _Master_ as your beloved Council didn't ask me to leave and, in fact, they even offered me a seat on their oh so illustrious body. I. Left."

Harry shrugged but continued on over Durvan's gobsmacked expression "Still I will send you home presently. There is just one thing to do first…"

"And what is that?" Durvan asked heatedly.

"To administer your punishment" Harry responded coldly.

As Harry began to move forward his hands began to glow an ominous golden colour. After much trial and error Harry was glad that he had finally mastered this particular gift. Oddly enough, for him, it required him to summon and then balance rage and serenity. It had the downside of leaving him feeling oddly detached after its use.

Durvan wasn't completely stupid as he recognised what Harry was doing and began to feel fear even as the former Jedi continued his approach.

"No Potter…. you can't" he screeched " I am a Jedi Master... you can't do this!".

His protests did nothing to stop Harry as he, almost lovingly, reached up to the struggling Jedi Master's head and in a swift movement pulled his glowing hands away ripping the Force from Durvan and permanently blocking his access.

"Why?" Sobbed Durvan truly heartbroken though Harry, in his current state, found it hard to care one way or the other.

"Because you invaded my home" Harry responded with his voice colder than the arctic. "It is also a warning to the other Jedi as to what will happen to them if they trespass uninvited".

Perhaps Harry should not have done it but, after everything that Jedi had cost him and the deaths of both Hakk and Orion, he found that he had little to no sympathy for the Jedi before him.

It may be the case that Yoda or the Grandmaster could repair the damage, Harry thought, maybe not. Either way he could tell from the broken demeanor of Durvan that he would never return.

Besides it's not as if the Jedi would retaliate, Harry mused, as they would be trying to survive the backlash of nearly bankrupting the Republic for many years as well as repairing their all time low image among the populace.

The Senate itself would also tow the line thanks to some very prominent bought and paid for Senators.

Sometimes greed was good.

Besides Harry had other things to worry about beyond the Republic and the Jedi. One was his Force Vision and the other was finding the twisted son of a bitch that has corrupted his friend.

Less than a week later the Jedi Master was returned, unceremoniously, in a almost derelict ship, to the main landing pad of the Jedi Temple with a succinct note about trespassers and their punishments. The fact that he was escorted by twelve JK droids was beside the point.

Thanks to Harry's Senators, before the Jedi could even object, he was taken into custody over the crippling financial crisis that now so wounded the Republic.

It was clear who the Senate was going to blame, after all, as although it was deeply corrupt what passed for justice in the Senate was remarkably swift.

The fact that the former Jedi turned prisoner was cut off from the Force and neither Yoda nor the Grandmaster herself could fix it was not mentioned although it was an open secret.

Jedi Council Chambers

"We are, regrettably, unable to do anything about the 'Cadi' problem as you so eloquently put it Master Shano" said the Grandmaster sharply looking into the eyes of both the newest Jedi Master and Yoda's newest acolyte.

"But why Master?" Pressed the young human while ignoring, or missing, the quelling look that Yoda was sending her. She was young, at least to Fae, being only forty. Then again, she mused, youth _was_ a relative term.

"Aside from the Republic being almost bankrupt you mean and by our actions no less?" She fixed the girl with a cold look. "We have broken the Potter Trade Agreement on the Republic's behalf. Do not think that we are universally loved for that alone. Justice in the Republic, especially in this case, is not even in our purview even if we could get sanction from the Senate to act. That, of course, will never happen as much as we are distrusted (some would say hated) William Potter is still beloved. After all it was his brother Arthur, not him, who enforced the penalties in the contract and it was Master Durvan who made that possible".

"But…" she interjected, still under her mentor Yoda's watchful gaze, only to be verbally slapped down by the Grandmaster.

"William Potter's powers are not new. There is no evidence of the Dark side of the Force, nor is he even a member of the Republic anymore. The only thing that I will do" she hastily added " is to declare Cadi off limits to any and all Jedi. I believe that we have done enough there for several lifetimes".

We also, she added in her mind, lost a great Jedi to the hubris of others. She did still find herself wondering if Yoda's way was the right way but, she had chosen her course and would stick to it.

In her heart she wished one of the most talented Jedi and her friend the best.

Goodbye William and good luck she thought.

Cadi/Spero

Harry on the other hand was not missing the Jedi as he was simply far too busy.

It had been three months now since he had experienced his Force Vision and he had puzzled out, aside from leading the Jedi, one important fact.

Cadi had to change. Not just Cadi but the entire System itself.

What had started off as a personal retreat and centre of business on Cadi would have to be expanded and turned into a fully functioning world. Harry wasn't sure what the darkness in his vision was but, he did know that he wished to save as many from that as he could, if he could.

To that end, though parts of the planet would still be reserved for magical creatures such as dragons and breeding phoenix's, he had planned ( and was now using droids to construct) a large city with his former home being in the centre.

His home also underwent modification. He had ordered it expanded into what might one day be the centre of government as well as the place that he lived. Structurally that meant adding wings to each side as well as twin soaring towers, one of which would hold his private living area, one would hopefully be where the new Government's Council would meet.

In a fit of sentimentality he called the city New Atlantis. He could have called it anything but, although Camelot was more revered especially in Britain, Atlantis was the original home and safe haven for Wizardkind.

He hadn't stopped there though.

Though the Infinite Empire had not been as adept at it as the Celestial's before them they had experimented and developed machines to move planets within individual solar systems. He had used this to move Cadi 3 and Cadi 4 to within roughly the same orbit as Cadi 1 and, more importantly, to within the Goldilocks zone itself.

He had then, using temporary biodomes on both worlds as well as judicious use of his cloning cylinders, taking the final month to start the magical ritual on both worlds and, although they would have no Geological Forge at their heart, magic would build over time.

He had also given orders to specialist worker droids to improve both the atmosphere and the fauna to make them both fully sustainable for any life that lived there. It would take many years for that to be fully realised but time was something he had.

He could almost see New Atlantis now, rising almost majestically from the earth that was set aside for it, its gleaming buildings made from locally sourced (and magically enhanced) marble.

It would be quite a sight.

The one place that he did not have much to do was with Cadi's moon as it turned out that being so close to Cadi had begun to imbue the moon with whispers of magic and, although Harry did help it along some, it required very little actual terraforming. In fact, in terms of magical presence, it was shaping up to be the closest to Cadi of them all.

The final planet of the system was Cadi 5 (the gas giant) and Harry had a surprise planned for any unwelcome visitors hidden on it's far out depths.

Harry intended for the entire moon to be a city, much like Coruscant, so that any large population could live there while helping to maintain the delicate balance between urbanisation and the creatures living on Cadi itself.

The final thing Harry did was to rename the planets (and the moon) themselves as it seemed ridiculous to him to have numerical numbers for planets that were both now sharing similar orbits and, for that matter, out of order anyway.

Cadi 2 had long lost that designation as, at least in Harry's mind, it was a factory and had therefore simply been renamed The Factory. He did however add permanent bio domes over it's surface for when, or even if, organic life began to work there.

Thus Cadi 1,3,4 and Cadi's moon became Spero, Clipeum, Mollitiam and Fide respectively as, not only were the names apt, it amused him to use latin to name them.

Cadi 5 kept its name but lost its number as there would never be anyone living on it.

That is not to say that Harry did not receive a surprise or two as, during a long Holocall to Almania, he had no more than mentioned the fact that he had left the Jedi and was terraforming his planets for more people before Tor Dalon had sent almost nine thousand of his people to Harry as colonists.

These people had all worked off world and, although Almania was easily weathering the financial storm of the Senate, they were both without a job and purpose.

Spero provided both.

They quickly made the budding New Atlantis their home and sped up the building of the city considerably.

They were also, Harry was pleased to see, led by Kalo Lak. His once enemy turned friend had thickened a little around the middle and had grey hair now but was still possessed of that work ethic that soldiers seem to have in spades.

They truly did seem to meet each other at the strangest of times, thought Harry, though this was a good surprise.

Though Harry would have loved to enjoy the unexpected reunion he, once again, left his home in the capable hands of Holodroids masquerading as his 'brother' under the direction of droid Hermione and took off in the _Patience_ with ten JK droids and twenty five fist sized recon drones.

He had debts to pay and he owed Sett Harth the largest one of all.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16: The Hunt and the Long Awaited Rediscovery

753 BBY

2,900 ATC

Bespin

Ten years. It taken him ten years to hunt down the wily bastard that was once the Jedi Padawan Sett Harth.

The first thing that he had created, or rather had instructed droid Hermione to create, was a new type of recon drone, it was about the size and shape of a baseball as well as being completely black. He then sent them (with stygium crystals to enable cloaking) and posted them around every hidey hole that he had managed to glean from Hakk's mind.

He still had no idea how his factory had managed to make the cloaking work on something so small. Harry had made the mistake of asking once and had come to three simple conclusions.

His first was that, yet again, no matter how evil or morally bankrupt the Infinite Empire once was they were technologically brilliant. Not only had the request been quickly answered, but it seemed that it was _easy_ for them.

The second thing was that when he had, politely mind you, asked droid Hermione to explain and she had started to rattle off a string of numbers and techno jargon that left him feeling dizzy and had left him with an intense migraine.

He had not asked again.

The third was more of a dawning realisation of a number of little things that he had not paid much attention to until now and they all concerned the state of the Republic.

In the last two thousand years there had been almost no technological advancement (excluding a few ideas that had been rediscovered) in fact, it could be concluded, instead of advancement that there had been a series of regressions in technology as they were either (more often than not) forgotten or (much more rarely) classified by either the Senate or the Jedi as too dangerous to be known to the general public.

It was more than that though. It appeared that the Senate was simply so large and bloated by corruption that the left-hand rarely knew what the right hand was doing and so almost all of this was happening automatically with few, if any, knowing exactly what was going on.

In short the Republic was stagnant, if not in decline, and it was just becoming worse. Harry did not help that stagnation (or regression) along but he did nothing to hinder it either as it suited his purposes nicely.

After all the last thing he needed was a revitalized and cohesive Republic to decide that a closer look at him or Potter Industries would be a good idea. Not that they would at this moment anyway as they were still dealing with both the financial fallout (read crisis) and the labour shortage caused by breaking their agreement with Potter Industries.

Over the last ten years Harry had been frustrated at many turns but he had quickly found out how Sett Harth was extending his life. He was using a Sith version of Harry's technique and, although he used clones rather than blood bags as well, that meant while the technique had some flaws it was none the less quite effective.

It was probably some Sith that stumbled over remnants of the Infinite Empires techniques, mused Harry, who then went on to develop this version. Then again they themselves had also regressed thanks to the madness of Darth Gravid.

He almost shuddered to think where the Sith would be now, given the Republics slow decline, if that were not the case.

On the plus side the elusive nature of his quarry, along with being free of the Jedi's watchful gaze, had enabled him to do a few things that he had either not been able to do or simply not felt comfortable doing while under their watch.

First and foremost, given his visions, he had reactivated the military arm of his droid manufacturing process. The bowels of Spero now teemed with droids and the standard HP-15's now numbered almost eight million with almost two hundred thousand Jedi Killers on top of that.

He had also built, or caused to have built, a number of other things that would make invading his adopted system unwise to say the least. One of the things that he did was to alter his droids so that they were all armoured in New Atlantis Steel (or NAS for short).

One of the other things he had arranged was a nice surprise on the gas giant Cadi for any that might try and pass it along the way to his adopted homeworld.

He had as a final measure managed to improve his already considerable reputation in the Outer Rim as he had, sometimes financially or with medical aid (though only rarely with careful application of the Force), helped no less than eighteen troubled worlds that the Republic (with its almost laser focus on the Core and troubled financial situation) had left to flounder.

Add that to his not inconsiderable reputation from when he was a Jedi as well as being the head of Potter Industries (his 'brother' having died of 'natural causes' five years before) and he was still a figure that commanded respect and increasingly maybe even a little bit of awe.

That was not the most surprising development that had come about in the last ten years however as that title belonged to the state of his magic.

Being free of both the Jedi's watchful gaze and their almost constant demands on his time had enabled him to fully master the somewhat limited spells that he knew as he could now not only cast them all silently but with no wand movements or, in the case of his ring, barely a twitch of his finger.

There was disturbing news in that area as well unfortunately. Due to the many constraints on his time, as well as his left over Occlumency from the Horcrux Harry had once carried, he had felt no need to access the centre of his mind with any urgency. Ironically enough, if one was learning the Mind Arts the natural way, that was exactly where you started but Harry had felt no need as he already had shields.

That turned out to be a mistake on his part.

Magic, in general, was quite loose with natural laws. His scar housed a soul piece for example and had not crumbled (so he believed) simply due to the physical distance between Voldemort and himself... not alone at least. It wasn't actually the distance that was a problem but rather the increased magical drain that such a distance caused.

In essence the soul piece could not drain enough magic at once to both sustain its existence and maintain the tie to the main piece as well as fight off his natural magics attempt to destroy it. This problem was exacerbated by the fact that it didn't even have the Earth's natural magic, a trickle though it was, helping it along. That was of course without including the, quite likely, increased power requirement to keep a link through a displacement in time.

When he had finally gotten around to accessing the centre of his mind he first marveled at the motes of light that were dancing in the mental sky. He found himself standing in what appeared to be an endless stretch of grass and that the motes that danced in the sky were the Force playing endlessly in their own internal rhythm and entwined with his very being.

It certainly wasn't his magic as he saw that just to the left of him and the sight of it left him enraged.

His magic was a multi-coloured pulsing tree that almost buffeted the air with waves of power and, ordinarily, that would have made Harry smile except for one large problem.

There was a sickly dark grey band wrapped around the tree and, though his magic was still strong, it was bending and almost being broken by it. The band wrapped around the entirety of the tree, from trunk to branch, but it was hardly the only one (just the largest).

There were almost thirty other bands, these were a dark purple in colour instead of grey, that were smaller and seemed to be supporting the larger grey one.

Harry felt like he had been raped by the intrusion.

This was the deepest part of his mind. It was also the one place that no one was supposed to be able to enter and the one place that was wholly and utterly his. It was the one sacrosanct piece of him that no one should ever be able to alter or control.

It was the very depths of his soul.

It was so deep in fact there were no memories here, no thoughts, no musings, no constructs. It went further than that, deeper than that, it was the gestalt and bedrock of his very being. Memories were much closer to the surface as they could change or fade with time and they were deeply flavoured by his mood at the moment that they were created. If they were the surface this was the exact opposite. This was his inner most core.

And someone had violated it.

Given the fact that this… binding was here he could only think of two people who may have done it (three if you counted Voldemort). He immediately discounted Voldemort as it simply was not his style given that Voldemort didn't want to control Harry or weaken him but _annihilate_ him. Voldemort wished to remove any trace of Harry from existence...to make it as if he never was. This much Harry was able to glean from not only his experiences with the lunatic but also from the very moment the scar had imploded.

It also was not the work of a student as it was too artfully done, too structured and precise, for any student to even attempt and that left Harry considering the only other two mind readers that he was aware of that could use magic.

Snape and Dumbledore had done this to him, thought Harry, the utter and complete bastards.

They may have had a good reason for doing this but Harry could not think of one. Many dark and horrible thoughts began to filter through his brain and even though he wondered why they had done this he realised that it did not matter.

There would be no excuse, no forgiveness, for this _travesty_.

Thankfully his magic had been strong enough to survive whatever binding that Dumbledore had placed on it (or the binding itself had been designed to keep it functioning to a degree) and had even begun to break it.

Or it had tried at least as he could see little cracks throughout the larger one and that was where (Harry assumed) the 'Beloved Potions Master' had come in as the smaller purple ones were attached to, and supporting, the weakened areas. They even seemed to be feeding it and, worse, were somehow leeching his own magic to do so putting his magic into a perpetual cycle of self destruction.

He thought that it must have happened during his laughingly abysmal 'Occlumency lessons' that he had been forced to have with Snape, the vile man had somehow shored up the damage to the main binding.

He was sure that Dumbledore had some reason for doing this thing, after all the man always had a reason, he was certain that it wouldn't be a good one or at least not good enough to justify this invasion.

Unless it was meant to be good enough that Harry would hear it and then slip a lightsaber between the man's ribs. Then, and only then, could it be considered good enough he thought.

Harry then had a moment of daydreaming about all the ways that he would make Dumbledore suffer for such a violation and was honestly torn between cutting him slowly to pieces with his lightsaber or electrifying the white haired eye twinkling son of a bitch until his very muscles cracked his bones from spasms and his veins glowed red with heat and cooked him from the inside.

Though the Force and magic, in his experience, either ignored one another or reacted badly to each other (in rare cases), he was in the very depths of his own mind and as such the guidelines for these things were more fluid here than they might otherwise be and much _much_ more susceptible to his will.

Harry Potter could be said to possess many things but one of his defining traits, possibly chief among them, was his prodigious will. After all he was one of the youngest, if not the youngest, wizard to cast a Patronus and that was despite the bindings.

That being said he was seemingly unable to call on his magic to break his bindings and he couldn't help but think that they were designed that way. If he were a normal wizard then this would have condemned him to live without the full scope of his abilities. He was not however a normal wizard and had not been for some time.

So, after trying to call on his magic to defeat the bindings and failing, he managed to call on the Force.

The struggle was immense, even here, and he somehow knew that the binding had been on his magic for a very long time. At first he failed at outright removing the large grey and sickly looking thing as they were too well entwined with both his magic and the smaller purple ties.

At length (and thinking himself extremely foolish) he realised that he needed to try a different tactic. He began to will the Force into a scythe of almost incandescent power.

Slowly the glowing motes began responding to his will and, after coalescing and fully taking that shape, he savagely and even brutally first attacked the smaller 'ropes' that helped anchor and support the large one.

That they were cut so easily, as well as being a uniformly toxic purple colour, reinforced the idea that it was Snape not Dumbledore that had placed them as, even on his best day, Snape was not the most powerful wizard. Inventively cruel and sadistic maybe, certainly petty, but not the most powerful.

They soon faded away like so much smoke on a bright sunny afternoon.

He then turned back to the large grey rope. It's cracks where much more evident and he could even see especially large ones at its base as his magic had obviously been fighting against it for a very long time (possibly from the moment that it was first placed on it).

Looking at the thing now, free of all other impediments, he was even more disgusted by it. It appeared almost like a large grey pulsing slug and as much as anything could it pulsated with wrongness to his eyes.

Now that he had an opening that he could exploit he pushed the Force into the largest cracks and, instead of trying to attack head on, began to make them widen by reforming the scythe into two large bars and pushing them apart.

The difficulty of even this manoeuvre was almost beyond description, though compared to his first attempt, it was slightly easier. Harry had the fleeting and distant impression that, in the waking world, his body was shaking and drenched in sweat.

It did make him certain however that it was Dumbledore that had done this to him. After all, despite the obvious moral deficiencies of the man, it took a great deal of power to do this and apart from anything else he was known to have that in spades giving the man's historical accomplishments.

In the midst of this titanic struggle Harry vowed to never again trust the old man as this was much more than a step too far... this is more like a planet's worth of steps at least.

Harry was uncertain for how long he struggled as his entire focus was fixated on removing this taint from himself. It could have been hours later, days, minutes or seconds even Harry was unsure and time was a relative thing especially in his own mind.

Eventually, slowly but surely, the binding began to fail first with the already present cracks widening and then with great tears forming in it. Like dominoes falling the speed began to increase as more and more of it ceased to function until in a great rush the horrid thing turned to smoke like it's smaller cousins.

When he had awoken he had noticed straight away that things felt different.

Before his magic had, outside of life threatening danger during which he assumed the binding loosened out of self preservation, like an eager puppy running around near his heart. It was present and ready to act but now it was so much more than that. He felt that for the first time he truly understood, on a purely visceral level, that muggles and wizards were inherently different.

He was a magical being, first and foremost, and the magic of the Potter bloodline sang joyously in his blood. It was in his heart, mind, body, and soul and it infused his every cell. For a moment, he fancied that he could even see it settling down from it's almost furious rainbow hue into a deep soothing emerald green.

His magic was as much a part of him as his arm or foot, more so even given his unique situation as well as the fact that he had lost limbs before but never his magic, and he revelled in feeling truly whole for the first time in his life especially as he wasn't aware of what it felt like to be so in tune with himself before.

The surprises were not to end there however as he found, upon waking in the real world, that magic came to him much easier now and he found that it even felt cleaner than it had before. It was almost akin to having always had to drink dirty infected water only to be given his very first taste of pure spring water.

More than that it was this, he would later reflect, that would allow him to master the (albeit limited) repertoire of spells.

He also found that as the amount of power increased that he was able to put in his spells so too did their telltale colour decrease. Eventually, over the years, he found that it decreased so much that where once you could guess what Harry was casting they had become almost colourless beams of power with only the barest tint of their original colour.

More than any of that however, for the first time since he had discovered the bindings, his soul felt clear and truly his own.

All of this led him to being confident in confronting a Dark Jedi, like Sett Harth, that had lived for hundreds of years.

As Harry stood outside of Sett Harth's current bolt hole, he mentally checked himself.

He had trained.

He had prepared and studied.

He was ready.

On a palatial estate on Bespin Sett Harth would meet his final end.

This he vowed.

Sett Harth knew that he was being hunted but He did not know by whom.

Being proud of himself on being able to move on a whim and, despite the dark aura that he gave off to those sensitive to such things, he was the consummate con man always able to charm who wanted to and truly enjoy his immortal existence.

Not the last eight years though. He honestly thought that it could have been longer than that but it started out so innocently that he, at first, thought that it was just really bad luck.

He should have known better.

Three of his forty eight immaculately decorated homes had been destroyed in the span of two years and then almost all of his sixteen aliases had been tagged for crimes that he didn't even do. That was just the start as even more had followed until he was left with few choices and no ideas.

To the always immaculately dressed man who never had a hair out of place it was galling as he could not even live the life that he wished as he wished and, he often thought to himself, if that was not the point of immortality then had no idea what was.

Since then it has only gotten worse as (in the best of times) he had once had ten clones in 'storage' waiting for him once his current body began to show the disgusting signs of age at thirty and in the intervening years nine of them had been destroyed. He once had thought that ten clones would have been more than enough to ensure his continued existence and he now understood how wrong he was as nine of them had been lost.

Then was the knowledge that if this unnamed adversary knew enough to destroy them then it would be unsafe to contact any cloning facilities to make more. Given that he was being very effectively hunted he honestly had no idea how much his adversary knew.

Unbeknownst to him Harry had managed to 'sneak' a droid into the cold storage facility where his preferred cloners kept his DNA and infected it with a very specific retrovirus.

This act would have normally been outside of Harry skillset but, as with the recon droids, he had merely asked for it to be done. What he had done differently was that, once it was done, he had asked for all records of the retrovirus and its creation to be destroyed as such knowledge would be beyond dangerous in the wrong hands.

Before that had happened however the unnamed droid had managed to taint not only the sample of DNA but also each of the ten clones with the retrovirus.

Sett Harth did not know this nor did he know that the final clone, as one of the ten, would most likely be the last clone that he would ever inhabit.

Instead he was busy trying to figure out who had done this thing to him. Most of his enemies did not even know his real name and, thanks in part to Darth Gravid as well as his vigilant nature, the Sith were not even aware that he existed.

Could it be a Jedi? He wondered, while sitting in the lounge his first (and now last) him (in his opinion) this place was tasteful and elegant but, he reflected, a gilded cage is still a cage.

No, he decided at length, no Jedi would be so underhanded. The few that believed that he was anything more than a ghost story over the years had charged in recklessly and been easily as well as ruthlessly dispatched.

Added to that they were still dealing with the fallout of being responsible for the largest crisis that the fetid Republic had faced in centuries. What then, he wondered, could it be? What or who was coming for him?

He had a nagging thought then, something that itched at the back of his brain, but he couldn't quite realise it except to know that it had something to do with his latest Jedi pawn.

He fondly remembered twisting the young Hakk as there was such potential in the boy. He didn't like him, someone like himself would never like a pawn or anyone for that matter, but he did savour the satisfaction of twisting a self righteous Jedi to the Dark side.

Sadly it was the very reason that had so twisted the boy that had made him a pawn rather than a player in the great game that was life.

Love.

Sett snorted at that as nothing was more ridiculous to the man who lived for himself (and only himself) than romantic love.

Sett Harth was many things but he would never understand putting someone, anyone, before himself and therefore the idea that someone would and may even die for them was not just ridiculous but obscene to him. He was more than happy to slowly twist it into something else however. It was almost like making a beautiful piece of art, he reflected, each twist was unique to his target and in the end they became something useful to him.

Sett Harth only cared about Sett Harth after all.

Before he could ponder the conundrum of who was targeting him further the front door of his lounge blew inward, from a series of explosions, with such force is it also nearly blew his arm almost completely off as he raised it to protect his face. In fact, by the look of it, it was only being held on by a few damaged muscles and torn skin. It was already beginning to spurt blood out of his body at an alarming rate.

He set off running, ignoring his pain, even as he heard mechanical feet stomping behind him and barked orders following them and for the first time in many years he felt true fear.

Harry was not aware of this hectic running by his quarry being instead too focused on giving orders to his Jedi Killers.

He was just thankful that Sett Harth had underestimated his old friend.

It appeared to Harry that Hakk was viewed as a tool and nothing more. While it was insulting to the memory of his friend it did allow Hakk to learn more than Harth had anticipated and that included this secret palatial home.

Harth had very few defences to this place when compared to his other houses as he had effectively abandoned it after Darth Bane's successor Darth Zannah had not only found him here but successfully recruited him, at that time, to the Sith.

Thankfully for Harth that recruitment had not only ended with him having his life intact and free of Sith entanglements but had, in the course of his unwilling servitude, led him to the secrets of eternal life. It was a secret that Harry imagined the Dark Jedi was very thankful not to share with Darth Zannah.

Sett had of course kept payments up on the land just in case it was ever needed but, as the years went by, he had never added security as its defence was that no one knew that it had ever belonged to him.

Until Hakk.

Honestly, Harry thought, that man was a born Ravenclaw if ever there was one. I know that I never could have found this place buried underneath so much other information (not alone at least).

Banishing away the immediate wave of sadness as he thought about this lost friend Harry, with the ease of long days on gory battlefields, tried to return to the task at hand.

His hand reached down and grasped the pale green lightsaber which was one of the spares that he'd picked up along the way. He still hadn't gotten around to remaking his own just yet as it simply didn't feel right.

His ten Jedi Killers moved forward at his gesture and, despite trying to keep his mind only on the task at hand, he couldn't help but marvel at the differences that New Atlantis Steel had done to them as opposed to the relatively simplistic phrik.

Objectively the burnished steel looked almost like liquid silver over their faces and on looks alone Harry thought it was an improvement. Of course the manufacturing process went deeper than that and it was not merely an aesthetic change that they had gone through.

Because NAS was magically charged he was able to get away with a few shortcuts that would have even taken days to complete (not to mention left him magically exhausted) for the ten or simply been unable to do it at all.

Their swords, as just one example, were given simple eversharp and reparo runes so that it took a lot more effort to dent them or damage them as (like all the runes he had ever come across) you would first have to overwhelm the inherit magic that was naturally in the blades.

In a similar fashion, though obviously less powerfully given the surface area involved, there was a series of reparo runes etched into the armour body of the droids themselves. Though not powerful enough that a truly severed limb would instantly begin to reattach itself damage would slowly heal and the droid would be functional (to a point) for a far longer time.

Harry had not added more than this as the steel would not regenerate magic away from a planet with high magical saturation like the Spero system and even then, as it was not a natural biological process, it would be only the bearest of trickles.

It was frustrating to him because he knew that, in theory, there were advanced runes that could have absorbed various forms of energy and use them to recharge magic. However, outside of the most basic ones that were given as examples of outdated archaic and massive runes in his book, he simply did not know them.

The archaic ones that he did know were simply too large and when placed on his creations they lost all effectiveness when made to fit or shrunk to size (he had tried).

Still, both he and his droids, moved forward slowly and precisely further into palatial and very gaudy house. If Harry didn't know that it was not possible he would have thought that Minister Fudge himself had a hand in the decoration as it was so over the top.

They were moving carefully to avoid any possible traps that the man had set but they were not worried about him escaping as they had that covered. Recon droids were hidden around any possible exit and Harry may have also incorporated high powered explosive cores in these particular droids design.

Harry almost hoped that Sett Harth tried to run and met one of them but that was beside the point.

Suddenly, as they moved to explore the dwelling, a fresh faced and whole Sett Harth set upon the leading droid with an almost calculated abandon. Harry despite himself could not help but raise an eyebrow in surprise at the man's obvious skill with a blade.

No matter if in recent years he had let himself go, gotten soft as it were, Harth did have years (if not generations) to improve his skills. In this aspect of his life, if nothing else, he has achieved a level of skill that Yoda clearly yearned for and Harry could not help but look upon him with more than a little envy.

Sett first threw three of the Jedi Killers with the Force smashing them violently against the wall while impaling another through the chest with his red saber. It was a good blow being aimed right were the power circuits on most models would be.

Sett was more than a little surprised then when the impaled droid, instead of falling into a powerless heap, used one hand to grab and almost crush his saber wielding arm while making a precise swing already trying to decapitate him with its own sword in its hand.

Using skillful acrobatics he brought his feet up to the chest plate of his enemy while dodging the swing and, using both the droid and the Force as a springboard, somersaulted back and out of danger for the moment.

The other six began to move in as Harry stood back and watched his creations work intently and silently, he began to both judge their worth and mentally begin to fix any flaws that he could see.

Sett Harth had lived long enough and he was able to adapt quickly and expertly rolled backwards giving himself even more space from the impaled droid and it's battered fellows.

Sett's eyes widened however as he stood because he noticed that the three that he had thrown earlier had started to, quite impossibly, stand rather than becoming the scrap that he expected them to be. He also noticed the glowing shapes on their armour and couldn't help but wonder if they had something to do with it.

Worse for him Sett noticed the other seven droids approaching. He also finally realised that he was in the presence of the most famous former Jedi in recent years who was looking at him like a cat watched a mouse just before it pounced.

It was almost like it was some sort of test, Harth thought with a dawning sense of foreboding, but if it was it wasn't for him but the droids instead.

About to be overrun Sett Harth did the only thing that he thought he could do.

Opening himself up fully to the Dark side of the Force he unleashed a barrage of Force Lightning on all of the inhabitants of the room whilst smirking knowing that the raw destructive power of the attack should end this combat quickly.

He was right to a point.

The power that was released was no mere spark or even several strips that Harry had come to associate with that dark gift. instead it was a violent, all consuming and almost unstoppable storm.

Sett Harth watched with mounting frustration as, before his awesome power, the droids seemed to somehow be resisting. So with a snarl of rage poured everything that he had into it and electrified each and every one of them into so much hot and glowing scrap.

He then turned, expecting to see a charred human corpse but, what he saw had him literally gaping in shock.

He saw a sweaty, obviously strained, human face staring at him from behind a strange and faintly blue energy shield.

He certainly also didn't expect that the face would be smirking at him in return.

"You didn't need to do that. The Jedi Killers would have failed in moments anyway". Harry then grimaced, as if he had swallowed something distasteful, and conceded a point "You really were very powerful you know?".

"What do you mean? I _am_ powerful and I am much more powerful than any one pathetic Jedi" Sett sneered.

It was painfully obvious to Harry that Sett's bravado was not only somewhat forced but his attempt at gaining more information. Harry, on the other hand, also found it very hard to care one way or the other.

"Oh I agree" said Harry chuckling to himself and under other circumstances Sett would have found it odd as here they were, about to fight to the death, and his enemy was chuckling.

However, after being hunted and having his beautiful home destroyed, it was fair to say that Sett Harth was beyond that level of thought at the moment. His rage had only increased as he belatedly realised the damage that his own lightning had done to his beautiful things. Even now some of his most precious and expensive things were either burning or were outright unsalvageable.

"They are pathetic aren't they? At least that stupid Progressive movement is… though I suppose that's all of them now". Harry raised eyebrow before continuing "But you prove yourself just as stupid by missing my point. You are already dead and you have been since you unleashed your attack upon my droids". He nodded to Sett Harth his face now easy to read without the shield partially obscuring the view.

Sett Harth followed Harry's eyes to his body and what he saw made him choke in dawning horror.

For the first time in his long life he found that his skin was quickly showing the ravages of time. It was already aged to such a degree already that his hands had several liver spots and there was a mass of wrinkles where they used to just be perfectly healthy and youthful skin.

Age had quite literally caught up with him and, quite understandably given the fact that he truly enjoyed the pleasures of youth, it had turned into a phobia for him and as such he was not just horrified, but almost petrified with fear as he saw his body rapidly ageing in front of his eyes.

Eyes which had already began to cloud over with cataracts.

"What?" Sett managed to gasp. He felt his knees turn to water and his limbs buckle beneath him as the onset of his advanced years robbed of the ability to walk.

"Did you really think" said Harry while trying not to take satisfaction in the way that he had heard those knees crack and break as they hit the floor and unsuccessfully tried to redistribute their weight. "That I left your last clone alone because I _missed it_?".

"How?" Sett's voice, once so youthful, was dry and cracked seemingly exhausted by that one simple word.

"I corrupted your biological sample. Essentially the body has a natural insulation against the effects of heavy Force use and the channeling of such power is taxing, not to mention the corrupting nature of the Dark side, it has to really or Jedi and Sith would be dropping like flies. I simply removed that protection from your system".

Harry was not Voldemort and was not ordinarily given to gloating over a successfully executed plan and this was not what he was doing (not quite anyway). In fact harry found that form of grandstanding, outside of trying to off balance a foe while fighting, to be the height of stupidity.

Instead it was Harry's desire that Sett Harth understand why this was happening to him and that, if he had left Hakk alone none of this would have been possible. Harry cared little for the Republic and less for the Jedi as a whole as they had all made their choices and so, if Sett had left Hakk alone, it was quite possible that he would still be enjoying his immortal existence.

"How does it feel to know that your own power is killing you?" Harry asked genuinely curious "As to how I found you... you should really keep better track of what your pawns are doing".

By this point Sett Harth's body was beyond wizened with age as he looked like a man in his early third century of life, with arthritis having now turned his hands to claws and having only a few wispy hairs on his head with his back bent with the strain of his years, he did not have long left.

"Okay" Harry continued when he realised that Sett was not going to answer his question. "I _might_ have done a bit more then I said to help the process along but then you really shouldn't have targeted my friend".

"W-who?" Sett managed to grasp out from a prone and crumpled position on the floor. It may have been one word but Harry understood what he meant. He wanted to know who had betrayed him and who, at least in his mind, had caused all of this.

"Why my friend of course. I have no idea if you gave him a ridiculous 'new' name but I always knew him as Hakk...Hakk Fry. You are responsible for his death and I suppose in a way he has managed to be responsible for yours too".

"P-please" pleaded Sett, his was voice barely a whisper now and he just about managed to raise one hand in a desperate attempt to seek mercy. It felt to Sett that there was a whole world suddenly covering his body as the corruption from the Dark side did it's work. Everything in his body was rapidly shutting down, even his lungs felt heavy, and it seemed that even keeping his eyes open was a struggle.

"How many people have you killed simply for your own amusement?" Harry spat out unmoved by Sett's plea and with a deep and toxic venom lacing his voice. "How many of them had families? How many loved ones cried?" Harry's eyes were cold even as they narrowed to slits "How many begged?".

Harry did truly considered going over to him and cutting off his head though it was not out of a sense of mercy or kindness that he did so. Harry was more than a little upset that a man such as the one laying before him would dare to seek any sort of mercy after what they had done. Harry shook his head slowly as to cut Sett's head off now would only further sully Harry, and that victory, no matter how small, his enemy would not have.

"No. You showed your victims no mercy and so you shall have none from me. To give you any would be a disservice and final insult to _them_ ".

Instead Harry tapped a quick code into his bracer signalling more droids to converge on his position and then he dragged an upturned chair over and, for the next minute or two at least, watched Sett Harth slowly die.

He took no pleasure in it, in fact he felt more than a little empty over the whole thing, instead it was more about making sure that he was actually dead and did not have one final escape plan.

How much blood would be on his hands before he was done? Harry wondered caught up in the knowledge that, yet again he had taken a life. Granted this was justified and, if life were a game, then Sett Harth had to be removed from the board. He was simply too much of a danger to ever remain in play.

Still no matter how cynical life got Harry was reminded of two lessons. The first was that the universe ran on the idea of force. Money was force as bribes could force many things to happen, blackmail and extortion were forceful applications of knowledge as well. At their heart none of the methods that anyone used was pure so what made physical force so objectionable?.

Harry shrugged while thinking at least a lightsaber was honest about it. It had no double speak, no complexities. It was as simple as the thrust of a blade.

But good or bad there would always be blood on his hands even discounting his time of manipulation under the Sith. In this universe there were no heroes and, by and large, no villains just people looking out for themselves and their own.

Someday he might be okay with that.

The second lesson that he had learned was that, when he was at his most cynical or introspective, he had begun to view life as a great game. Like chess there were pawns and kings as well as all manner of pieces in between.

He smiled briefly remembering an actual chess game, played with giant pieces so very long ago, and he knew that once he never would have entertained such thoughts. He had been so sure of right and wrong then, of good and evil, but now after all of this time what was right and wrong to a universe that didn't care? He just didn't know.

He shook his head. He was no great planner and, unlike Dumbledore with his precious Order, was no chessmaster and frankly he didn't want to be. That was the greatest lesson, hammered home again and again. Though viewing life as a game of chess was an interesting intellectual exercise, if you did it all all the time you missed the point.

Life was not a game of chess and people were not pawns, Harry reminded himself, and anyone who viewed the universe that way deserved to lose.

In these quiet moments he did wonder though exactly how would he be remembered when his day finally came? Would he be the saint or the sinner? Hero or villain? Businessman or butcher?.

He, much like life itself, had no clear answers. He could only, as ever, do the best he could and hope that he helped more than he hurt.

At length and after Harry had both finished thinking and checking Sett Harth's corpse three times (it was well and truly cold by this point) he stood and turned to the set of three waiting Potter Industries protocol droids.

"Strip this place" he commanded "all data, tomes, holocrons and even paperwork if there is any it is to be set aside for me to study later".

The reason he did this, misgivings about his place in the universe aside, was not just because the materials could be dangerous and needed to be disposed of, but also because they were a font of knowledge.

It wasn't just Force based learning that he could discover, if anything in Harry's opinion that would be the least interesting thing that he could learn, it was more the years (possibly centuries) of contacts, information and blackmail material that he might find. After all, by right of conquest if nothing else, it was all now his and he felt that he would need it before the end.

For the first time he activated his 'borrowed' lightsaber and used it for the slightly grizzly task of decapitating Sett Harth. He then slowly turned to one of his droids that was passing by him.

"Pack that up" he gestured to the head "have it passed to one of our friendly Senators along with this message…"

A few days later in a session of the Senate the representative for Alderaan, one Tulac Greel, was arguing yet again for the release of the former Jedi turned criminal Durvan.

This was not surprising to anyone as the Alderaanian had not only been a staunch supporter of the Jedi Order for so long that he (as well as his predecessors) was often referred to, behind his back of course, as the Jedi's voice.

This was not the first time that he had brought the matter up and had tried on every occasion to get 'poor Master Durvan' released. Every single time that they had tried they had failed and they went away, found what they thought was a fresh argument, and tried again.

They completely missed the point of course.

The Senate needed someone easy to blame and the two choices were either William Potter or Jedi Master Durvan. It was an easy choice as Durvan was not only not popular and extremely arrogant but was well within their reach.

No Senator would ever let him go lest the blame have a chance of shifting and moving to _them_.

All in all it was a relatively boring day. It was so boring in fact that many of the Senate were falling asleep in their pods as the oblivious man droned on and on.

That was until the member for the Brentaal system signaled to be recognised and, at the same time he was doing this, a prerecorded message detailing what he was about to say as well as a rehearsal of the speech and all it contained was being broadcast over the Holonet.

Sometimes bribery and corruption really were useful things.

"Honoured members, Supreme Chancellor, I bring news of grave import. A few days ago Sett Harth, whom the the Jedi in all of their _wisdom_ thought was dead centuries ago, was not only found to be alive but delving into perverse pleasures and the very Dark side itself!"

Pandemonium ensued for quite some time with the Chancellor ineffectively calling for order amist cries like lies and we want proof amongst others. It was a testament to how far the standing of the Order had fallen as well as there were even some cries to disband the Jedi or place them fully under the Senate's control or even to exile them out of the Republic itself.

Eventually calm was restored to the floor, though it had less to do with any power that the Chancellor had and more to do with sore throats, only for the Alderaanian representative to begin his impassioned reply.

"Assuming, which I very much doubt, that this sighting was true why have you not contacted the Jedi concerning this… Dark Jedi are their purview after all?" The overly condescending tone and the implication that his brother in the Senate might be a liar did not earn the man any friends if the stormy looks of some of the other Senators was anything to go by.

"Given the current track record of the Order I would say it was more than sensible not to" came the equally condescending reply. "Apart from that I did not want to be laughed out of any meeting for talking about a supposed dead man". The Senator from Brentaal's voice turned sharp "I would also be very careful about calling me a liar without proof".

In that last sentence the man's voice had turned cold losing all condescension from his tone and suddenly all pretense of disinterest from the other Senator's was forgotten.

One did not reach the height of power in the Republic without being able to sense the proverbial blood in the water and besides, for most of these Senators, they hadn't had this much fun in ages.

The most honourable representative from Alderaan grew red in the face but could not argue against anything that his colleague had said as the track record of the Order was common knowledge and he had insinuated, if not outright stated, that it could be a lie.

The Holonet recording obviously did not contain the back and forth between the two men but that hardly mattered as the main body of what Harry's Senator was saying was planned out well in advance and any delay caused by this back and forth actually helped his message. It gave the common people who were watching the recording more time to digest the words and less time for anyone in power to stop it.

The Chancellor then decided to make his presence known and seemingly came to the aid of the red faced man.

"I am afraid that in a case as sensitive as this the Senate would require absolute proof" The wizened old woman reminded them both in calm soothing tones. "The Senate does not lend credence to unsubstantiated accusations" she reminded them both.

At this the Alderaanian representative smiled certain now that the argument was going to fall apart and they could return to his much more important business. If he heard the Chancellor's rebuke, he either did not care or assumed that it was only meant for his fellow Senator.

"But of course" was the reply from the now smirking Senator of Brentaal. His tone mixed just the right amount of incredulity and indignation at being asked such a thing as if, without all of the unplanned interruptions, he would have already done such a simple thing. He then pitched his voice to carry "I present, verified by twelve independent doctors from a number of systems no less, the _head_ of Sett Harth!".

Screams and shouts once again rang out in the hallowed halls of the Republic's Senate as he both raised and opened the side of the box. Senators were not used to seeing such a grizzly spectacle in front of them as they instead tended to hire assassins when needed...like civilized people.

"How?" gasped the Chancellor, her face now pallid, looking at the gruesome sight.

"A few days ago _former_ Knight Potter who is a _former_ citizen of this glorious Republic found and dealt with this...pest". To the shock of many, instead of continuing his speech he brought out a playback device that slid neatly into his podiums console (it was after all designed only for that purpose). "To save showing what I have no doubt was a glorious and bloody battle we have a partial recording to show you of the event" he then added with a note of threat "I swear on my honour as a Senator that it is a true one".

The small view screens that were inbuilt into each Senators podium, usually used for sending or receiving private messages, were more than up to the task of displaying a short recording. The many Senators were unaware that, at the same time, the same recording was being played across the Holonet.

"W-who?" said the recorded image of a wizened and defeated Sett Harth. The short piece of video played out until Harry left to go get a chair at which point silence descended amongst them all as they digested what they had witnessed.

Predictably the first comment that broke the silence was a stupid one.

"This is fantastic. We can use the murder of a Republic citizen to force Potter Industries to return our money and begin shipping droids again". Those words, jubilant and assured, came out of the Alderaanians mouth in a rush.

He seemed unaware that with that statement those few who doubted, mostly his own supporters, now accepted the video as a complete and accurate retelling of events.

Again the noise level went up and once again the Chancellor tried to calm them down as some agreed and demanded exactly that while others demanded that Potter be rewarded.

The look on the Senator from Brentaal's face though was priceless. He had just assured his systems place in history in delivering the head of Sett Harth and the noise was like a fine wine. He closed his eyes in rapture already imagining the rewards he might receive for exemplary service to his system.

Not to mention the bonus he could receive from his benefactor for performing so well.

Eventually however all good things must come to an end as, this time, the Chancellor was able to restore a semblance of order much like a nanny does to a large group of errant children.

"There is no money that is yours" said the arctic voice of Brentaal's Senator as his brain had come swiftly out of the daydream that he was in and he managed to catch himself up. "Furthermore how would you charge him? He is not a member of or even in the Republic after all and, more to the point, what would you charge him with? Sett Harth has been recorded as dead for centuries and last I checked it was not illegal to kill a corpse...even if one could".

That fact did stump a few of the negative Senators as well as the ones wanting to reward William Potter. As he was not a member of the Republic the most that they could do was try him in absentia and they could give him no reward at all.

Trying to do either would serve little purpose other than making them all look extremely foolish.

"We could seize Potter's Triumph and liquidate it" persisted the Voice of the Jedi.

"And how many other companies and businesses, once you have arbitrarily seized one for no legal reason, would flee to the Outer Rim or beyond? How would that help our economy?" was his opponents dismissive reply.

"The chair recognizes the Senator from Onderon" said the Chancellor swiftly and not only signalled but allowed the man's pod to move into position in record time before another argument could break out between the two men.

If she had hoped that the Senator for Onderon would have something less controversial to say she would soon be disappointed.

"Onderon moves that the Jedi be sanctioned for routinely dismissing and ignoring the threat posed by Sett Harth, if they did not indeed create it as he was once a padawan of their Order, and further that it be public for all to see that the Senate is both just and swift in its actions".

Unlike the Jedi was the unspoken thought of many Senators.

This time the wave of noise was overwhelmingly positive even as the Senator of Alderaan pinched his nose and felt a monumental headache coming on. It had started off as such a good day as well, he couldn't help but think, where did it all go so horribly wrong?

Eventually the man turned to his sometime adversary, sometime friend (after all that was the nature of politics) as their podiums were still exceptionally close together and leaned over to whisper to him.

"Why Twelve doctors?" After all, he thought, twelve was a bit much as he had the head of the man on his person.

"Twelve is a nice number wouldn't you say?" came the smug reply.

Out in the streets of the capital and, soon enough, all over the Republic the message had a strong effect.

Certain dark legends that had persisted and were retold to frighten children, despite the Jedi's strong denials, were now proven to be true and the average citizen had to wonder what else the Jedi might have missed.

There was very little actual fear though as, at least in the eyes of the average citizen, they now had a hero that did not take the Jedi at their word and had even ventured into the realm of dark nightmares to save them.

William Potter and, by extension the entire Potter family, had just become living legends.

Far away from the Senate a console beeped. The sound was shrill and designed to draw the attention of anyone or anything that heard it. This particular part of the console had never lit up before though even though it had been the first function embedded into it and Harry had often hoped that it would.

Within minutes the droid known as Hermione was boarding the latest (and fastest) shuttle that Spero had ever created as she had news for her Master that she knew he would want to hear face to face.

Earth had been found.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17: The Problem With Time and Plans

1343 A.D.

Earth

Standing on the _Patience_ Harry could not believe that he was finally home and, after all this time, he couldn't help but feel a deep sense of wonder at seeing it again.

Through all the trials and tribulations that he had experienced he had always hoped that he would get here. In his long life he had hoped many things that turned out not to be true however and had begun to believe that he would never get here.

When he had left he had been a young man of fifteen (albeit one was more than just a little jaded by life) and now, as he looked down on his birth place, It truly hit him that he wasn't anymore. There was, after all, a great difference between knowing something intellectually and knowing it deep down in your bones.

Though his body was, by his reckoning, only thirty six he was actually nearly sixty and in that moment he felt every day he had ever lived press down upon him. The weight of experience was so heavy and, in a weird way, it reminded him of the challenges that he had yet to face.

He had thought that he had known death when he had watched Cedric die but he soon learned that he was wrong.

He had seen the death of thousands... hell he had caused the death of thousands. Held crying mothers, weeping children, and seen the arrogance of those in power destroy lives much more thoroughly than death itself. He had done everything he could do to get here, all the good and bad, and he found that it wasn't what he expected.

He expected to feel elated even joyous at coming home but feeling was noticeably absent as he looked down upon Earth.

Though, as a relatively young magical, he still looked around twenty (if slightly younger) he did not feel it. He lacked the idealism that came with that age, the certainty of right and wrong, the clarity of knowing what was good and what was bad, as more and more all he could see now were various shades of grey.

He certainly wasn't a young man as, on some nights, what he had done as a Sith (or what they made him do he honestly could never be sure which) caused him to wake covered in sweat holding back vomit as the horrid images played across his mind.

That sort of thing did not happen to young idealistic men.

"Master there appears to be a problem" stated his ever faithful droid friend Hermione and, even as he frowned at that, he found it fitting that she stood beside him now as her namesake had once done on Earth so very long ago (and hopefully would soon do so again).

"Speak" he commanded wearily.

"Our recon droids have, as asked, scanned the planet below and have discovered nothing in the way of industrial build-up. Correlating all the data we have come to the conclusion that is not the year 2000 by Earth's local calendar".

"If it is not then what bloody year is it?" he asked hoping against hope that it was not too far off.

"We believe it is the year 1343 A.D. by the local measurement" she said softly.

"Fuck!" Harry shouted. You couldn't help but wonder if his life was cursed as he was over six hundred years early. He thought about the situation for a moment and then brightened.

"What are you thinking Master?" asked his faithful companion having seen that look many times before.

"That I can save my parents, save Sirius, save Luna's mother…" he said even as he was already planning how he could do that in his head.

"I am sorry Master" and, Harry would reflect later, she did actually sound sorry "but you cannot".

"Why the fuck not?" If she was phased by Harry's use of profanity her all too Human looking face did not show it. Harry had an odd passing thought in that moment, they really had done too good of a job on her face as it looked too perfect, even as he waited for an answer.

"Because any events that you do change could cause you to not go through the veil or not to be the person that you are. You must allow history, especially your personal history, to take its natural course". She replied clinically and, as if he had imagined the emotion that he thought he had earlier, without warmth.

"So I wouldn't be the same Harry Potter... not a deal breaker if I can save so many lives".

"It is not as simple as that. You could end up in a world where Voldemort was never vanquished and took over the entire globe or one where your parents never met. You could even end up in one where something worse than Voldemort happened and the world has been destroyed. This is of course not taking into account the paradoxes that it would cause if you didn't go through the Veil... and no one and nothing knows what that would do... but it's possible that you would destroy the entire Galaxy".

"So what you're saying is...I can't go back and save my parents?" Harry hated how lost and alone his voice sounded in that moment. It was reminiscent of what a young child sounded like when they were frightened of the dark or realised, for the first time, that their parents might one day die.

"I'm afraid it is worse than that Master" she responded. Harry cocked an eyebrow even as his mouth thinned into a tight line.

"How could it possibly be any worse?" He asked at this moment simply not seeing how anything could be worse than not being able to save his parents or destroying a Galaxy.

"When I say worse... I mean worse for you personally... if you do alter the time line significantly you have a limited time to fix it or you may cease to exist entirely. You may even be required to help events happen as they should to avoid that prospect".

"You mean" began Harry catching on to a horrible thought " that I might be required to help Voldemort's rise to power?" He almost screeched truly sickened at the very idea.

"The possibility is remote but it does exist".

For once he envied her ability (and the Progressive Jedi's ability to a much lesser extent) to truly detach from or turn off emotion. He was trying very hard not to freak out at this moment and, even employing Occlumency, he was only partially successful as he felt his shields almost buckle under the strain.

"Is there any good news?" Harry asked sarcastically not really expecting a positive response.

"Yes Master Harry. From the Rakatan understanding of temporal mechanics I believe that the further back you go, assuming that you don't interact with anyone in your direct bloodline, you are minimise the risk".

"So...no interacting with my great great grandfather? Anything else?".

"It appears, from the limited information that the recon droids have managed to gather, that at this time the Potter family generally sticks to the area you know as the United Kingdom. I would avoid even visiting the United Kingdom unless it was absolutely necessary". She paused as if weighing up what to say next "The Infinite Empire was familiar enough with the theory and had created specifications for a small device that would warn them of damage to the timeline to a dangerous extent. Small breeches were of little concern as time, for lack of a better term, healed itself".

"You make it sound like time is a living thing... surely that's not true?" Harry asked intrigued despite himself.

"Unknown". Harry never knew that a single word could chill him so much given the possibilities that the single word threw up in his mind. "The Infinite Empire theorised that time travel was damage and that time itself seeks to heal that damage and return events to as close to the original as possible. No theory on the actual sentience of time was ever recorded".

"Is there a way for me to tell, if I do change an event, how to fix it?" Harry asked beginning to be overwhelmed by the idea that time could be a _entity_ as well as the idea that he may cease to exist.

"Not specifically what to do no" began the droid "though we could ask both the ship and your recon droids to gather data and extrapolate information to provide a statistically likely scenario as to what has changed how to fix it".

"What would be the downside?" Harry asked already expecting the worst.

"The entire ship would have to be given over to the task and, to try and preserve the timeline, it would be inadvisable for you to call for another... it will be risky enough with this one and your recon droids. When time passes the date on which you left however it should be possible to use the ship again without fear of a paradox".

"If the Empire was adept at time travel why did they not try and use it to save themselves then?" Harry queried the thought suddenly popping into his head.

"Any small change would have little to no effect given the size of the catastrophe and any large change was deemed too risky as it may have caused the very empire they were trying to save to never have been formed in the first place". Hermione's reply was succinct and to the point.

"This device that can warn me about a change…" Harry said dismissing ancient history in favour of his immediate problems "how small can you make it?".

"It can be as large as a house or as small as a thumbnail. I would suggest that you take the latter option rather than the former and wear it around your neck as jewelry. It would after all be much easier that way" she finished in a very dry tone of voice.

"Did you just make a joke?" Harry said more shocked then amused by the action.

"I did try Master... was it not good?" Hermione replied in her usual monotone voice.

"Anyway" Harry said trying to switch the subject " to sum up... no interacting with my family members or friends of family members, avoid the United Kingdom if possible, I will have no use of advanced technology while I'm in the past and if I change something I have to fix it?".

"Essentially correct. You can interact with family members and the like if, and only if, it does not alter the timeline".

"And how exactly would I know?" Harry asked.

"Fair point" she responded simply.

"Great... so I am to become the universe's greatest voyeur and be doomed to watch but not act...fan-bloody-tastic". If droid Hermione thought that she was supposed to reply to that comment she wisely decided not to.

After walking around the ship for a while Harry, as was his nature, gave up overthinking the problem and simply decided to go with his first idea that did not have too many issues as far as he could see.

"Hermione, call in a repair ship to meet us on the dark side of Earth's moon". Seeing that she was about to open her mouth he hastily added "Don't worry it's not going to land anywhere as it's merely to retrofit the _Patience_ with everything I might need for this trip into the past. It will leave soon enough and, when it does, you will be on it".

"Will you not need me here?" She asked.

"I will need you running my company more _especially_ if I'm going to be here for a very long time" Harry responded. "I know you would like to stay and help me and I appreciate it, I really do, but you're the only one I can trust with this. Someone has to keep the succession of Potters going if the Republic ever decides to look in and I am trusting you to keep the holodroids on task.

She nodded at that though she was clearly unhappy with it she understood the importance of her task.

"Is there anything else that I should do while you're gone?" she queried.

"Yes...I need you to devise a way to deal with a very delicate problem…. the elf problem…" Harry responded. In the time that the recon droids had been down on Earth, among other things, they had cataloged a great deal of data on the diminutive species.

In the four days that it took the state of the art repair ship to arrive Harry had not been idle. He had sent out his recon droids to learn as much about the place that he was going to land in as they could as well as reconstructing his lightsabers.

Though he intended to upgrade them eventually but for the present they were essentially the same as before except instead of various wand woods encasing them now they had no ornamentation at all. The hilts were now also made of New Atlantis Steel with the emerald one a deep black and the deep sapphire blue one silver polished until it shone.

When the ship did arrive he was a whirlwind of activity directing the accompanying droids as to what he wanted removed and wanted it replaced with as well as what he wanted to remain.

The navcomputer was scaled down as it's computations took up too many resources better used for temporal probabilities. In fact it was left with only two destinations in its system and those were Earth and the recently renamed Spero System.

In the same vein all weapon systems were removed although they, instead of being gutted, were simply disassembled and stored in the cargo hold. The cargo hold was itself was greatly scaled back and instead the free space was utilized as a second power system by placing interlocking portable power sources there. The equations and the task that the computer would have to do were immense after all.

He had installed a cloaking device on the ship but, again due to the power involved, it would only be used to enter and exit the planet undetected.

All non essentials like furniture and foodstuffs were removed. Even the lighting from non essential parts of the ship were ripped out with those sections of the ship sealed off and even the life support and artificial gravity being diverted to save power.

In fact the only additions that Harry made were a CE3 droid that would act as the voice of the ship if he needed those calculations, a chair designed to flash imprint knowledge and two cryostasis tubes.

The first tank was remarkable simply because it was empty. The second had a clone, naturally grown from his current body, resting in it at age ten.

Harry was aware that he often did not think things through all the way. He was not Hermione (the original not the droid) and it simply wasn't part of his nature to naturally think through every possible action that he could take before he acted.

It was sometimes a flaw, he knew, but on the other hand where people like Hermione might be stymied by shock over the unexpected like she had with the Devil's Snare in their first year Harry never was. He instead generally saw a problem and then acted and, more than that, when he acted he did so decisively and to the best of his abilities.

The reason that he had this clone, the reason that the Potter Industries Trade Agreement had worked out so well, was less to do with his ability to analyse all possible outcomes (Harry privately thought that he was piss poor at it) and more to do with the fact that he had literal _years_ to plan things out and, given that, he had been able to work in his contingencies.

That was, he reflected, the true bonus of a long life. His many enemies, political or otherwise, were concerned with the now or at best two to three generations down the line. He however was able to formulate plans that would possibly take hundreds of years to accomplish, if they came to fruition at all, and it helped that his opponents believed that he was as short sighted as they were.

The clone was a case in point. While he had certainly hoped to be within the rough time period of when he left he had quickly realised that it was unlikely and so had created many contingencies if that were not the case.

The clone was his failsafe if he was too early.

The chair on the other hand was simply a way of trying to keep up to date with his company and the wider Galaxy during his long stay on Earth. He planned to periodically use it in conjunction with his occlumency to remain aware of the more important facts of his company and the Galaxy at large. This included (but was not limited to) who his current allies were, his opponents, the current state of Potter Industries, his current alias (at least in the Republic) and the state of the Spero System.

The downside was that, mainly due to both power requirements and the eventual rise of technology, updates would be one way and infrequent at best. It was a risk, both to himself and the future of his life in the wider Galaxy, but he felt that it was a risk worth taking.

He was also never more thankful for the Potter families now infamous reputation of almost galavanting across the known (and sometimes the unknown) Galaxy. It had started when he had founded Potter Industries so long ago and with the many missions that first the Sith and then the Jedi had sent him on (combined with the reclusive nature of his holodroid 'family') the wanderlust of the Potters had become somewhat legendary.

Combine that with the well known secrecy behind when an heir would be produced and, more to the point, the genetic engineering that made them all look the same and he was fairly certain that no one would be able to tell definitively where he was or where he wasn't until he was actually there.

When he thought that he was ready he double checked his bags as he prepared to land and leave. He had six large bags shrunk down to fit in his pockets (he had added a featherlight charm for good measure as well) filled with gold bullion, another two with silver bars along with six fist sized bags of precious and semi-precious stones with two of those bags being filled with diamonds.

His lightsabers were clipped to his belt and the newly made temporal amulet hung on a cord around his neck.

Activating the cloaking device he piloted the ship for the nearest empty piece of land adjacent to Paris.

"Scanning the area for non human life signs in the vicinity of Paris" stated the droid.

"Thank you GE3...let's go home...sort of" he said.

One Week Later

Harry had hidden his ship in a derelict building between where he had landed in the middle of the night and the outskirts of Paris.

He had removed the armour from his robes and altered their cut so that now he look like a very well to do monk or priest. The lightsaber hilts may have looked odd but, unless they were activated, all they looked like was a odd curiosity.

It also hadn't taken much to scan the mind of a passing noble in a carriage and extract the knowledge of mediaeval English, Old French, even a smattering of Arabic and to fill in the remaining gaps in Latin (including vulgar Latin). It appeared that Harry's target was quite well educated for the time and in that he was very lucky.

This world was stranger to Harry than he expected. He knew that the Middle Ages would be the cause of a culture shock for him but what surprised Harry the most was that there was an open Wizarding Quarter. There was no Statute of Secrecy and there wouldn't be for many years.

Most of all the 14th century Paris stank what with people tipping their filth into the streets and horses defecating whenever and wherever they wished. He found himself missing indoor plumbing more than he ever thought possible. it was far from the city of love that it would become.

All that being said they still tried not to draw attention to themselves and the Quarter was not a formal arrangement in the same way that many other quarters (such as the Jewish Quarter for example) were not. Instead the wizards, congregated together for the same reasons most minorities did. They came together in common hope, to protect one another and help each other but mostly they just tried to get on with their lives with a minimum of fuss.

That being said some things didn't change it seemed as when one went looking for a goblin the best bet was to look underground. In Harry's native time some very racist wizards used to call them deformed tunnel rats due to their predisposition to live underground and the fact that, to the majority of humans at least, they were not very attractive at all.

That all meant that Harry was unsurprised to find them on the shores of the east bank of the Seine river. What did surprise him however was that when he did find them there was no grand marble entrance like he remembered. Instead there was just a rough artificial hewn cave mouth that was guarded by two goblins behind a simple muggle repelling charm that was built into the lip of the cave.

Still, Harry thought, politeness cost nothing. So when he was passing them he nodded to the two Goblins and moved swiftly inside.

The inside of the building was also different from the one that Harry remembered. It was more rough then he recalled and again instead of the marble that he knew it was inside the same rough hewn stone that was outside.

Swiftly moving through the mostly empty bank he approached a teller. The goblin looked bored and distracted behind his counter and, at first, didn't even look up as Harry moved closer.

Harry was now near enough that he could fully focus on the goblin in front of him and the only difference he could see between these goblins and the same ones that he remembered was that they seemed to be carrying some form of crude wands as well as the expected goblin steel. It appeared that the law against them carrying ones had not been proposed or passed yet .

"How can Gringotts help you today wizard?" The goblins voice, though still sharp and speaking Old French, lacked some of the hostility that he had become accustomed to in talking to goblins during his school years. It was refreshing for him to say the least.

"I wish to open an account" Harry responded very softly in the same language and then continued " a _premium_ account".

The goblins eyebrows rose. Harry had found out that premium accounts were only given to extremely wealthy customers of the bank and they required a bank manager to run them. He had learnt this in his third year while he was staying in the Alley as, contrary to some people's opinions, he was not simply sitting on his arse and eating well at the Leaky Cauldron.

He did find out that the goblins definition of extremely wealthy did mean _extremely_ as certain families, like the Malfoy's for all their vast wealth, could not come close to owning one though the Potter's did (among a few other select families).

This was a calculated risk on Harry's part as he had no idea if the money that he had brought with him would be enough to actually allow him to have one. The goblins, as a rule, did not disclose the amount needed to open such an account nor were they generally in the habit of telling you things that they believed you should already know.

To their way of thinking wizards were an annoyance and any chance to one up them as it were was taken with a great deal of relish. Given that the Harry did learn some things while he was in his third year he doubted that he learned half of what he probably should have already known. Though he did fancy that, in his day and age at least, he knew more than the average wizard about them although that was not saying much.

It did get him in the door though so to speak.

"Follow me, Mister?" Asked the still unnamed goblin.

"Mr Altayih, Roul Altayih" Harry said in reply even as the Goblin smirked at the obvious alias that he had chosen.

"An interesting name" commented the goblin as he closed his position and began to move deep into the warrens of the bank and gestured for Harry to follow him. "You however are not of Arabic descent... tell me do you travel often?".

"Some" was Harry's vague response and despite continued questions from the goblin Harry said no more. Soon enough the questions petered out and the rest of the walk continued in silence as the goblin seemed to sense that Harry would answer no other questions about himself.

At length they came to a great oak door and his guide knocked sharply three times to be met with a dep echoing silence. For a brief time the seconds seemed to stretch into eternity as the silence dragged on and Harry feared, for a moment, that there would never be a response and he would be ejected from the bank...harshly.

"Enter" said a strong and deep voice on the other.

"A word of warning human.. Do not anger Account Manager Sharptooth. Do not draw your wand without express permission and do not make a single threatening move. There are no appeals under Goblin Law and you will be killed if you do".

"My thanks Master Teller" Harry said gravely and with great formality.

"I do not wish or require your thanks" answered the goblin swiftly. "I said what I did so that, if you do not act in the required manner, your government cannot claim ignorance to avoid certain penalties".

With that the goblin left, without even a backward glance, presumably to resume his duties.

Harry quickly entered the room understanding that, to a goblin, time was money and wasting money was the second worst thing that you could do after theft.

He also knew that, aside from the so called purebloods desire to see them as beasts, they found muggleborns just as annoying if not more so. To a goblin overt politeness and small talk was a waste of time and therefore a waste of their talents as well as money and so, whenever a well meaning muggleborn began trying to do that, they grit their teeth and assumed a bland interested expression that was patently false.

No matter how much they wanted to do that they did not yell at them as they understood that, no matter how misguided, the muggleborns meant well unlike the purebloods.

The Account Manager's office was opulent and tasteful much like Harry remembered Gringotts from the future. Its walls and flaws were made of perfectly set marble rather than the stone that was still forming the bank proper.

The desk behind which Sharptooth sat was expensive, beautiful and slightly imposing. Harry had no doubt that it was by design. The artwork on his wall was similarly imposing, depicting the great battles of his people, but like the rest of the office, it was also tasteful in nature and almost imbued with a casual elegance.

Harry took all of this in with a glance as his eyes were drawn instead to Sharptooth. It was plain to see that he was not pleased.

He also saw, that for a goblin, Sharptooth was both exceptionally tall and muscular and he had no doubt that if he did offend Sharptooth then not only could he be attacked with the crude wand strapped to the Account Managers thigh but that any number of vicious looking and exquisite weapons that lined one wall could do the job easily enough.

"What does a human, of no House wizarding or noble, want with one of the premier banks of the wizarding world?" Harry tried to mask his surprise at the idea that there existed other banks that wizards used. In his time, by unbreakable contract, all wizarding money was both minted by and banked using the Goblin Nation alone.

"To bank with of course...as well as other things" Harry said even as he slowly and carefully reached into his pockets. He was very aware of of Sharptooth's eyes following his hands every movement and he had no doubt that if he had reached for a wand he would have at thievery least been in a great deal of trouble and more than likely be dead a few seconds after.

The goblins own hands were almost to carefully placed on his desk. Harry assumed that there was a panic button or charm there as, after all, Goblins were known for many things but never stupidity.

Thankfully for Harry's health he was not reaching for his wand. He laid out three of the six bags of gold as well as the two bags of silver and, after asking permission, he waved his hand and the ring that he wore glowed softly.

The bags expanded and as Harry opened them the demeanour of Sharptooth shifted from a dismissive anger to one of guarded curiosity. Harry then proceeded to pull out the other bags of gold and the silver but he left the gems in his pocket for now.

"This is sufficient to open a premium account but I would suggest that you do not do it under your alias… Mr Wanderer.. as even today Arabs are not particularly welcome in Europe". Sharptooth's eyes seemed to slowly caress the contents of the bags in front of him like a lover, especially given that the bars were almost six times the standard size and twice the weight, before swiftly turning his attention back to Harry.

"About that" began Harry "I am in need of Gringotts _discreet_ services... is there a ward that you could put up?".

With a practised flick of his wrist Sharptooth hit a rune on the underside of his desk and Harry could feel the wards go up. They were now effectively isolated from the rest of the bank as well as the outside world.

What makes you think that Gringotts offers such services?" There was a dangerous tone in his voice then and Harry was aware that the next few moments would be critical. " After all" Sharptooth continued with apparent nonchalance "we are a respectable institution".

"Permission to draw my wand?" Asked Harry and before he nodded Sharptooth withdrew a heavily enchanted long and wicked looking dagger. After all they were cut off from the rest of the bank and Harry had no doubt that one cut from that weapon would utterly destroy him or his body at any rate.

Harry pulled out his wand, smoothly flipped it in his hand, and laid it gently down on the desk. If this negotiation failed, Harry thought, then it would be worth the trouble that he had been through simply to see the look of surprise on Sharptooth's face at that action.

"It is common knowledge" continued Harry "that Goblins are masters of enchanting objects. Scan this wand please and tell me how old the first charm on it is... barring those that were used in its construction of course".

Sighing lightly but giving the strange human before him a moments indulgence Sharptooth began to chant knowing that if nothing came of this then, if he was lucky, the human would lose the veritable fortune currently sitting on the desk.

Of course, the goblin continued his train of thought, if the human was unlucky then that was what dragon pens were for. Eventually he stopped chanting as the magic created a piece of paper in front of him filled with symbols and runes. Looking down intently he began to study the paper.

"The charm is forty six years old, a children's magic monitoring charm if I am not mistaken, that is not uncommon for parents to do so that they may be aware of the children's early exploration into magic". Sharptooth paused in his explanation as he read once, twice and finally a third time the next set of runes on paper before him. " the charm was placed on the item, presumably if not by the parents then when sold, in…. 1996?!" He finished with a gasp that caused his voice to almost gurgle at the last words.

"You are a time traveller?" Sharptooth's face was open and unguarded in shock at this revelation.

"Harry Potter at your service my dear goblin". Harry then paused waiting for a moment to see if the amulet would heat up and when, to his eternal gratitude it didn't not, he continued "I have an offer for the Goblin Nation assuming that it goes no further than you and the head of the Nation itself".

"The great Ragnok himself, known to wizards as Ragnok the First?" Sharptooth asked curiously "Very well...he has always liked to be intrigued and we have never seen someone travel so far back in time. Be warned however that if you insult us or try and trick us in any way your head and the heads of anyone related to you will be forfeit".

Sharptooth couldn't help but ask the question that have been floating around his brain since the man before him had identified himself "Given your unruly hair and your name are you related to the British Potters? The Potions pioneers?".

"My family are Potion experts?" Harry said with some surprise "I never knew that".

After the wards were brought down and a goblin called to pass a message to the King Harry was asked to return the next day to discuss his proposal. Harry was unsurprised that they asked for some time as, not only was his request unorthodox to say the least but, he had just dropped a rather large bomb on what they knew of the world.

He left his Holly wand with them as a show of good faith and merely asked that they remove the trace sometime prior to 1999 and have it transported to the British branch of Gringotts and allow it to be retrieved on request sometime after that.

As this was of little difficulty to them and he was now an account holder of the bank they had no problem granting his request.

The next day he met with the Goblin King and explained his plan. The King was receptive but hardly willing to accept it without thought or negotiation.

They talked for hours and even had lunch and then dinner together while they went over the final points. As they did Harry was aware that the King and his two advisors were beyond shrewd negotiators and he was aware that part of the reason that they kept him so long was the hope that he would become tired and make mistakes. It was a technique that he had used himself many times and he was always surprised at how effective it could be.

Not to mention that even in this time wizards had become more closed off to ideas that were not already a comfortable part of their world and therefore had often, unbeknownst to Harry, turned their noses up at the Nations food so often that they were no longer even given the courtesy of the invitation to eat with their negotiators. It was therefore a surprise to them when, on a whim, they decided to test him and not only did he accept but seemed to enjoy the food.

They of course could not know that as a Jedi let alone during his previous and subsequent travels around the Galaxy that Harry had tried many different types of cuisine and therefore had almost no prejudices when it came to eating as long as the food was at worst palatable and at best enjoyable. This bought him a lot of goodwill within the Nation as it was another one of many things that showed them he was different from the average wizard and may be operating in good faith.

That being said, like there were even now wizards obsessed with their bloodlines, if not quite the blood purity of later years, there were still Goblins that distrusted him simply because he was a wizard but his actions during the negotiations made what could have been a vocal majority into a quiet minority.

After much back and forth not only did Harry have an account under the much more suitable alias of Roland Vauquelin (the last name was the Nation's own little joke at his expense) but he had agreed to Harry's offer in principle for the British branch at least.

His account would be managed by Sharptooth and his successors until, at the very least, Harry asked for his wand to be returned. The main reason that King Ragnok did not manage the account himself (his financial prowess was legendary after all) was that it would draw a lot of attention, especially over time, to one Roland Vauquelin.

September

It had been a few months since Harry had adopted the alias of eleven year old Rolan Vauquelin and in that time he had not only switched to his eleven year old body but had also bought land near where he had stored his ship. He then tasked the goblins with building a home on it and thanks to the speed of magical building they were done within two weeks.

Even as they had laid the foundations for his home he had them install a magically sliding roof in the ground and into a hidden cavern specifically dug behind the house and then, under the cover of night, had flown his ship into it.

He had then had them ward it to hell and back though it had cost him around half his gold. Harry was aware that it might be considered overkill but, he reflected, that it wasn't paranoia if people were actually out to get you. Harry had no doubt that his enemies would look for him eventually whether it was Voldemort, the Sith or someone that he hadn't yet met.

He had, wary of changing time, told the Goblin Nation as little as he could about himself. He did get the distinct impression that he hadn't been completely successful. He had, had many years to practice his skills in misdirection and bargaining but the goblins were literally born to it.

As his amulet had not heated up during the telling of his tale and as the ship was now safely hidden and set up for calculating temporal probabilities he was reasonably certain that he hadn't destroyed the future or caused a random black hole to spontaneously appear in the skies above him he believed that he hadn't destroyed the future. He did understand however that reasonably was a very subjective term and that unfortunately it was the best he was going to get.

God he hated time travel.

Still, despite his time with both the Sith and the Jedi he was aware that he needed more training in his magical gifts. Sure he could use his (almost pathetically small) range of spells both wordlessly and without much in the way of gestures but still that did not make him a fully trained wizard. He was also aware that just trying to experiment with magic and make do was not only foolhardy but incredibly dangerous. He was now more in touch with his magic than he had ever been before but all the power in the world would be useless if he did not know how to use it.

Hogwarts was of course out of the question due to its proximity to so much that Harry could change by accident and yet he could not bring himself to be far from his birth country despite that and so he found himself heading to Calais and the relatively young (it had only been open fifty years) Beauxbatons Academy of Magic.

Common wisdom placed Beauxbatons high in the Pyrenees Mountains and that error was by design because, though the Academy had powerful wards, it's defences were not yet fully charged and somewhat untested. The fact that anyone who was looking for the place would be searching entirely the wrong section in France went a good way to helping keep it safe.

They even went so far as to have new students take a secrecy oath about its location and any prospective students parents were not allowed to know where it was only where they could safely pick up their children. That simple misdirection made Harry grin even as it caused him to once again muse on mankind's stupidity. After all if it was where people thought it was no secrecy oath he would be needed.

The fact that only the most wealthy of magical families in France sent their children to the new school and demanded the utmost level of protection for their heirs had nothing to do with it of course.

Thanks to the remaining wealth that he had brought with him the Nation had, for a fee, provided not only the paperwork for an 'orphaned' Roland to attend but had also promised to update Harry Potter's relevant scores when the time came citing secret personal tuition.

It helped that, in the future, many would believe that The Boy Who Lived would have already had that anyway. As a rule the best tutors were held under strict secrecy oaths to never reveal the names of their clients and, even in this day and age, many were under the employ of Gringotts as curse breakers.

From the banks point of view it saved time and money if their employees could receive on the job training and, as no one knew what dangers they could face in a tomb, they were trained in a wide variety of fields. Many would not question this, given all that, and those that did would meet a dead end due to Gringotts. Ministry records, in Harry's case, would even show the supposed dates that he got qualifications but not who actually taught him.

He did have an ulterior motive for choosing Beauxbatons as, from what he had been told by the Nation, where Hogwarts was currently famous for its Transfiguration lessons (and to a lesser extent Charms) and Durmstrang was famous for the Dark Arts classes Beauxbatons was famous for Runes courses. In Harry's time both Hogwarts and Beauxbatons would lose those distinctions with the former becoming famous for nothing, though they were a sort of jack of all trades, and the latter becoming famous for certain less used (and some might say) useless Charms.

Given the amount that Harry had used runes and other similar talents during his time in the wider Galaxy it made a lot of sense for him to go there instead of anywhere else and when he felt the inevitable pangs of homesickness for a Hogwarts that did not yet exist it would become a great comfort to him to know that he was working towards something important in the best place that he could.

In all of the counties that housed the famous schools there were other lesser schools but the quality of their education was slap dash at best, never was the adage you get what you pay for more apparent, as they were truly subpar. They were also almost never hired by institutions such as Gringotts or served as Royal Advisors as it simply was more trouble than it was worth to train them to a reasonable standard.

Also if he went to Hogwarts or Durmstrang and managed to grow comfortable there he might one day run into Dumbledore or Grindelwald and he couldn't overstate how bad it could be if he ever met either or both of those men.

With a side trip to a French wandmaker by the name of Piers Josse for a new wand he began to gather his school supplies. The whole experience was almost surreal for Harry as he couldn't help but think back to his first shopping trip with Hagrid and he found that, now being back on Earth, memories that were long buried so that he could not only function but thrive were suddenly shunted to the forefront of his mind.

His new wand was surprisingly not holly but a twelve inch ebony and, when the wandmaker had started to look for a core, one of the phoenixes from Spero had appeared in a flash of fire and Whimsy (as that was her name) had donated a single solitary feather.

Harry had tried his best to look as gobsmacked as the wandmaker and, not needing any other surprises given both his wand and his uncertain emotional state, had quietly and quickly left after paying his bill and had ordered all his other supplies as well as a small mountain of other books through the Goblins.

Thinking of the Goblins they knew that he had some form of Philosophers Stone, Harry had smiled as their jaws dropped at that and though Harry himself had never called it that he had not corrected them when they had done so.

They also knew that he had been off the planet at some point and that he was a Potter by blood and did not want that known at this precise time. They had understood after thinking about it for some time especially when taking into account the fact that he was a time traveller. They had promised to mask his particular parentage until the time was right and to merge his accounts on the morning of Harry Potter's chronological sixteenth birthday. They even did something to the owl post system so that he could receive it under his assumed name.

It would only take one slip up after all for someone to notice that Roland Vauquelin was receiving mail under the name of Harry Potter. Once again those were questions that he did not need to answer.

The architecture of Beauxbatons had Harry wondering if Walt Disney had either been a squib or once had wizards in his bloodline as it looked like a thinner and slightly more ethereal and delicate version of the castle that he vaguely remembered from sneaking looks at the disney films Dudley watched when they were both younger. It's white beauty with blue trimmings was a stark contrast to the rolling green fields that surrounded it.

Unlike Hogwarts in later years there was no Hogwarts express to take the first years to the school and so most were Apparirated by their parent to out of the way locations to then be picked up by teachers or seventh years or used a portkey from inside their local Gringotts branch. Brooms were out of the question as, even in this day and age, they would quickly negate any attempts at secrecy. At the time that Harry started the only muggle that was aware of the location of Beauxbatons was the French King and even he was only aware of its general location.

Harry, as an orphan, had only one logical option and so he took a Gringotts issued portkey. Thanks to the mutual trust that was in place between Gringotts and Harry however he was able to take it from his home.

It deposited him in the antechamber along with the other first years and he was again hit with a wave of nostalgia as he found himself looking around at the other eleven year old first years with an experienced adult eye. He was also hit, once again, with a wave of nostalgia and longing as he couldn't help but remember his first sorting.

He realised, that for the first time in a long time, how much he missed Hogwarts. Despite the deep reservations that he had in regards the Headmaster Dumbledore and his ever growing hatred of Snape Hogwarts was, and still remained, the first place that he had ever called home.

The differences between Beauxbatons and Hogwarts were welcome as they managed to take his mind off of his memories.

For all that he missed it Hogwarts was, at its core, an English castle that doubled as a school but as learning increased the focus on defence began to shift from both magic and more traditional methods to wards as they improved to take up the slack as it were.

This meant that Hogwarts was hardly homely. It was an often cold and drafty place in winter and the stone walls cast shadows along many corridors and a fair few of their resources were tied to the physical structure protecting the old designs from decay as magic had been imbued into the stones later rather than at the start.

Beauxbatons on the other hand was, for its time, a marvel of modern magic. Where Hogwarts was sometimes gloomy Beauxbatons was the opposite. Using a mixture of runes, glass and charms it was almost a bastion of light. The interior was of white marble and lush deep carpets and Harry couldn't help but wonder if this was where the Goblin Nation got the idea for their bank as he assumed that they had a hand in its construction.

The entirety of the interior of Beauxbatons was made to seem light and airy because of this, with wide arches in the corridors and thin resilient beams that (thanks to magic) held up the impossible weight of the castle. There were murals on almost every ceiling of astounding beauty and charmed heating stones imbedded like mini portable heaters in the walls for the rare occasion that it got too cold.

Wealth was also apparent here as the archways were edged with gold and the walls, instead of having portraits, were lined with priceless ceiling of their great hall for example was a magical reproduction of Giotto's fresco cycle in the Scrovegni (Arena) Chapel.

To Harry it all stemmed from one fundamental difference between Hogwarts and Beauxbatons. Hogwarts was and always would be a castle that held within it a magical school whereas Beauxbatons was a school that couldn't even exist without magic that just so happened to be in the shape of an idealised castle.

The first years waited in the antechamber together until individually their names were called. As the school was only fifty years old, there were as of yet no ghosts to break the tense silence.

Harry fidgeted in his new tailored robes. The robes were the schools traditional shade of blue but they had (In hidden pockets on both the left and right side of his body) his lightsabers.

This was because, despite all of the good memories that he associated with Hogwarts, he was still painfully aware of the amount of times his life had been in danger there and though he didn't think it likely he wanted to be prepared regardless. This led him to keep his lightsabers close to hand so that he would not be unarmed even if, for whatever reason, he was without his wand and ring.

The only thing of note that had been explained to the first years as they were led into the chamber by Deputy Guarin (a short kindly looking wizard that, though he lacked the mixed parentage, reminded Harry strongly of Professor Flitwick) was the school houses of Beauxbatons and the Arch.

The Arch was an ingenious application of magic as well as being the French schools answer to Hogwarts Sorting Hat. As you entered the main hall you were to stop just past the door and in that way you would enter the Arch which, on the first day of term, was placed just past the main doors after all students but the first years had been seated. It would then scan your mind and assign you to one of the seven Beauxbatons houses.

The seven houses of the school were named after one of the seven Knightly virtues. These virtues were Courage (symbolised by a figure fearlessly facing a dragon), Justice (a set of scales), Mercy (symbolised by two hands clasped with one seemingly lifting the other), Generosity (an open hand spilling coins), Faith (a figure in a traditional monk's cassock kneeling in prayer), Nobility (a unicorn's head) and Hope (a phoenix in flight).

Harry found it strange for a moment that a school would place such emphasis on the Knightly Virtues until he remembered the long lived nature of wizards. Given that it was quite possible that some of the students families, especially their grandparents, could easily remember Camelot and Arthur who was the first and only wizard King.

Harry could not help but sympathize with that idea due to the fact that he, as a time traveller, was more than aware of the slide into disagreement and political infighting that the Wizarding world would one day fall into. To a certain extent, he realised, it wasn't a bad idea to try and keep the memory of a time when everyone was united under an efficient rule and to try and cherish the ideals of that time.

He did find it privately amusing that, given the historic bad blood between the two nations, that a French school would be trying in some small way to remember and honour an English King wizard or not.

Due to the fact that his alias was quite low on the alphabet he had to wait some time before his name was called. At length however it was and he strode towards and into the Arch with a purposeful gait.

As he moved to do so however he noticed that the students that were already sorted had the symbols of their new houses stitched (he assumed magically) on the left breast of their robes.

He found himself wondering, in that short walk, why he had never seen these symbols on the robes of the students invited to take part in the Triwizard Tournament. He would think more about it later and eventually come to the conclusion that they were purposefully lacking to promote a sense of school unity and togetherness while competing with the two other schools.

He also vowed to himself that, if the tournament was running during this time, not only would he never enter it but he would make sure that he was at least on the other side of the school from the Goblet of Fire if it was Beauxbatons turn to host the event. He had no intention or desire to ever be part of that again and the fame that would come with it would be detrimental to his plans.

Where the Sorting Hat of Hogwarts spoke in words this Arch, made out of white marble inlaid with gold filled runes, was more of a comforting presence and at first that soothed him until he realised that it had easily pierced his Occlumency barriers.

He found himself trying to quell a moment of panic then even as he found himself wondering if the Arch would be able to tell anyone his unique history.

He sighed almost inaudibly when he received a cold and negative feeling in response. He got the impression that all though it was not alive and, more to the point incapable of it, the Arch was still offended by the idea. At this moment however Harry was far too relieved to care much though he would feel oddly sorry about offending it later.

He, not a split second later, also got the distinct impression that the Arch wouldn't even remember his details once it was finished and that the simple reason that it could breach his barriers was the fact that it was not human or, in a traditional sense, even had a mind.

He felt no presence rooting around his memories for ideas or images which was a pleasant surprise. In fact all he could feel was the almost constant sense of comfort that he had gotten from the very first moment he had entered the device. Regardless of that in the span of another second it had decided where he belonged.

It was like that, with a sense of reassurance and comfort, that Harry Potter alias Roland Vauquelin an orphan boy that no one had ever heard of entered Beauxbatons as a member of the House of Justice.

His education in magic had truly and finally begun.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18 : Differences

1350-1355 to 1900 AD

Earth

When Harry, as Roland Vauquelin, graduated Beauxbatons Academy of Magic he did so both quietly and well.

He had received straight O's in all of his O.W.L.'s and had then taken Runes, Dueling (with both magic and a blade, the latter of which he had to tone down so as to not astound his teachers with his skill) and Blood Magic as his electives. He worked hard at them and had achieved mostly O's with a smattering of E's in all of them as well as his core subjects and that, in turn, had led him to reflect on the differences between the time he was from and the time he now found himself in.

First, from the few references to it that he remembered, in the time that he was from Blood Magic was largely illegal and yet here it was taught as a class. It was seen as an effective but morally grey option in most circumstances given that the major powers of the day were often in skirmishes if not outright at war with each other.

It helped that it was incredibly useful as using it powered a great many runes that could otherwise need years of charging from wild magic and there were even spells designed to work solely through the shedding of freely given blood. It powered certain wards, as one extreme example, that could be not only extremely strong but also made to be bloodline specific.

The reason that it was dealt with caution by many (and most likely outlawed later for that matter) was its possibility for misuse and abuse in casting and runic form as well as rituals.

The damage and evil a person could do with either unwilling blood or that of an enemy could not be understated. Beauxbatons only accepted students in it on a case-by-case basis regardless of their grades due to this fact.

Given what Harry now knew of the art he was almost grateful that Voldemort had only used his blood for the purposes of resurrection.

Blood magic was a much different school of thought than almost any other bar perhaps Ritualistic Magic and was arguably the oldest form of magic with its history stretching further back than wizards had recorded.

Where normal magic bent the rules of the world to its purpose both rituals and, to a lesser extent, blood magic, moulded them like wet clay and created something that could not otherwise ever work and from it many horrors and wonders of the ancient world had been born especially when they were used in conjunction with each other.

Arguably that was how both the Veela and, in a darker example, Vampires and Werewolves came into being in the first place. While Harry personally thought the second was by accident he had little doubt that the other two were by design.

Thus, in terms of what could be done, Voldemort's resurrection was a very minor use of both blood and ritual. Harry had no idea why his enemy had not done more with what he had as, if he had, Harry would never have lived long enough to travel through the Veil or have been, at absolute best, irrevocably bound to the Dark Lord's will.

It simply could have been the fact that the magic was now illegal and scarce or it could have been that Voldemort was more concerned with securing his immortality and hadn't given thought to or been trained in the more _inventive_ applications.

Regardless of the truth Harry was extremely thankful that this was the case.

Also that schooling and power structure of wizards in this time period was inherently different to what he knew. For one thing there were currently no Ministries of Magic as wizards instead answered to nation specific council's that were, in turn, answerable only to their respective monarchs.

In Beauxbatons case that happened to be King John II of France as although Calais (as well as the rest of France) often was contested between the English and French crown the wizards recognised, in general, the French claim above the English. This could simply be because the English claim came from William The Conqueror who, due to being a French Duke at the time, was arguably a servant of the French Crown but Harry was more than a little fuzzy on that.

This meant that magic, both good and bad, that was banned or redacted by the future Ministry of Magic was not only in use but was actively being taught. In some senses it lead to situations of almost unending wonder and in other circumstances it lead to the possibility of deep bone chilling terror.

Thankfully, much like the Republic, it seemed that the Wizarding World was slow to improve itself and (in most cases) the standard of education differed very little from what he could remember though obviously the skills that he was allowed to learn were much more varied than before.

Perhaps the most startling differences to Harry in comparison to his past were the easiest to explain.

The main exception to the similar teaching quality was Potions Classes.

It was perhaps Harry's most hated class once but, although it still was in some senses, Potions Classes as he understood them were still in their infancy compared to the small amount that he had managed to learn in his native time. It appeared that the lessons for it had improved vastly with age as, instead of being its own separate class, it was now a part of Herbology and a minor part at that.

Harry had managed to learn from the Goblins that most potion advances that were being made (and Harry assumed the earliest steps for what he considered modern potions) were actually even now being discovered by the Potter family.

Though he never intended to tell Snape about any of this he did find it funny, in a way, that the Potter's were pioneers of his enemies art. It was also fast becoming the backbone of their now impressive wealth and they appeared poised to soon become more than simply wealthy because of it.

Dueling was also taken much more seriously, with most of his classmates being 14th century nobles, it was much less of a simple pastime and much more of a life skill that they would legitimately need. That was also why they included fighting with a sword rather than just a wand as, before the creation of the Statute of Secrecy, their opponents in the nobility were just as likely to be muggles as they were to be wizards and honour dictated that they fight with the same weapons as each other.

He was also very grateful to find that there were no Unforgivable Curses as, if he remembered his history right, they were crafted in the early days of the Great War as a response to not only a mass of combat trained muggles but also advances in weaponry.

After all even if a muggle had a weapon that could shoot incredible amounts of bullets (think of a gatling gun) in a split second, as they had finally realised, they couldn't use it if they were dead from a spell that could kill them if it touched them anywhere and did so instantly.

He now had a better understanding of why no-one had developed a way to block these curses. They simply hadn't had the time to figure out a way to do so especially considering the dangers of creating new spells and the general bureaucratic ineptitude of the Ministry of Magic.

There were still many spells however, not all of them of the Dark Arts, that could kill quite efficiently and effectively in the time period that he found himself in.

The final thing that shocked him was that the school year did not end as such and, due to their noble status, this was not only expected but required.

In this time the children were treated almost like miniature adults and soon enough, just as their parents did, most of them will be required to join the Kings court or (in the case of the girls who generally only stayed to sit their O.W.L.'s) be married off to improve the standing and wealth of their families.

Rightly or wrongly this enabled Beauxbatons to administer the O.W.L.'s in three years and the N.E.W.T.'s two years after that. Due to 'numerous' other obligations very few teachers were female and few students, male or otherwise, were able to (or chose to for that matter) continue their education beyond that level.

Harry was of course the exception to that rule as he had no other obligations then to learn as much as he could. By utilising meditation rather than sleep and employing both Occlumency and Jedi Cantrips to increase memory retention and learning speed he stayed for three further years.

He had finally left with two Masteries, one a Mastery of Runes and the other a Mastery of Charms, and though not the youngest to do so in the schools history he was very nearly so.

Unbeknownst to his teachers he had self studied in transfiguration and believed himself roughly around the same level as his other courses but never went for the mastery exam to be sure as no one had attempted or completed three Masteries back to back in recent memory.

Roland could be brilliant and studious and he could even be exceptional for his age. He could not be truly remarkable or a world renowned prodigy however as that would not serve his purpose here.

Harry, after his education was complete, somewhat mirrored Tom Riddle as he faded happily into the background and obscurity by buying a bookstore (or what would more accurately be known as a scriveners in this time) and then retreated to his heavily warded home.

He called it Bluestone.

The primary reason that he had bought a French bookstore was the illusion of purpose.

Everyone on the planet, immortal or not, tried to build something. They tried to make sense of their life and they worked everyday to build something and leave their mark. Just because his true purpose, the idea of going home and protecting his friends, spanned centuries it didn't make him any different. That did not mean that anyone should know his true purpose and made his purchase mainly an elaborate smokescreen.

That did not mean that he had no other reason however. With it he was able to buy, or have made, as many books on complex magic that he wished without raising the suspicion of others and the fact that the Goblin Nation, through intermediaries, was managing it and almost literally making money hand over fist was simply icing on the cake.

It wasn't that the needed much money as wizards in general, aside from creating food on the spot, could use their innate gifts to make or drastically improve almost anything given enough training and time but, if anyone was to question his growing wealth, he could point to a very successful bookstore. More than that the Goblins were already planning several financial maneuvers (outside of England of course) to diversify, invest and grow, his now much depleted assets.

He had allowed only two private tutors into his well fortified home and even then only temporarily. One of them taught him apparition as that skill was not only beyond useful but Beauxbatons did not teach the skill at that time as it was still too new and considered untested for younger witches and wizards.

The other taught him the Animagus Transformation.

The first skill took only a few weeks with the second taking two years of intensive his perseverance paid off as he could reliably pop around the country almost silently at will. He also ran around the grounds of his modest warded home in his green eyed and coal black winged lion form. The only splash of colour that it had, other than his eyes, was his snow white wings and he found it exhilarating to run, pounce and fly.

He spent the next three years almost constantly studying and he spent as much time as he could learning as many runes and rituals as he could get his hands on.

Rituals were, in the main, a bust either requiring other people's deaths or could possibly affect either his aptitude with the Force or the unique chemical makeup of his blood. Without the advanced machinery normally available to him he simply could not work out how it might affect him as none were designed for someone of his unique circumstances.

He did manage to find one or two that could be of use down the line however.

Runes was much more helpful in comparison however as he found updated rune schemes for the ones that he knew and a few others that could be of use, not only in his immediate fight with Voldemort but, in the greater and wider Galaxy as well. The heat conversion runes were of particular interest to Harry and, in his idle moments, he started to draw out some plans for them as well as a few other things.

His personal life was non-existent in this time as, aside from meeting the Goblins every few months to learn more about the Potter histories to date (they felt that as the future Lord Potter he should be well informed) he had made no friends.

He had done this on purpose and as he held himself apart from others he gained a reputation for aloofness and also competence in combat when some tried to take 'advantage' of his loner status.

On reflection, Harry thought, it had made him somewhat cold. That was the horrible thing about immortality though.. a long life not only gave you the gift of more time but enabled you to see everyone you cared about die.

Rationally he understood that the people around him now and the people that would be around for a very long time had, in one sense, been dead to him for centuries. That logic did not help him however when it came to combating his growing loneliness and all he could do was hold to his original purpose as he had to stop Voldemort and return home to Luna and the others.

He was also aware that he had changed a great deal and she may not feel about him as she used to but, to his mind, that was beside the point. If he could learn enough and do enough to save her and others from the fate that Voldemort had in mind then she had a chance to be not only alive but happy.

He wanted her to be happy.

Still, the past or not, the world moved on and he was very thankful that he was a wizard given what was going on in the world at the moment.

The Black Death had struck and it had struck hard.

It was killing many and it was only due to the fact that he was a wizard (with their crude but still effective potions) coupled with his new reclusive nature that enabled him to avoid a horrible death that was sweeping not only the countryside around his home but the entirety of Europe at this time.

Far fewer wizards than muggles died of course but it was not due to any great skill or revelation on the wizards part, but rather, it was the fact that the disease had to first exhaust the magical cores of the wizards that it attacked before it affected them.

Despite that (and the many potions that they had to hand) a great many wizards died and it had begun to sour muggle and wizard relations as those powerful men and women without magic demanded a cure that they were unable to give.

That was not to say he was uninterrupted in his solitude at Bluestone however as the world rarely gives people what they want and, if Harry had learned anything, it was also rarely fair.

While he had made no friends in his school days partly due to the fact that he would have outlived them all and partly due to the losses that he had suffered he was not completely cut off from the outside world (especially as he owned a thriving business in magical quarter of Paris) and couldn't afford to be if only because if he did not have any idea of what was coming he could not make a plan to deal with it.

He was aware that one of his major flaws was not being able to let things go but the loss of Hakk still hurt after all this time.

The Hundred Years War was in full swing and magicals were being conscripted on both sides for the conflict or being required to pay exorbitant amounts of money to one or both of the Kings to stay out of it all together.

Beauxbatons was currently under extreme pressure from both sides as, though the majority of French wizards had aligned with the bloodline of King John II of France, some wizards had defected to the 'rightful' King of France Edward III of England and it did not help in the slightest that Calais was currently under English rule and looked to be for quite some time.

This meant that the school became much more integral to the war effort for both sides as even a trio of well trained and prepared wizards could decimate an unprepared army in minutes. This was a power that both sides coveted and were more than determined to have for themselves.

Beauxbatons took no official side in the war as they argued that they were simply a school, a place of learning, not a war machine or a place to simply turn out expendable soldiers on a whim.

Knowing that this would soothe neither King's ire they had, during Harry's time there, enlisted all N.E.W.T. level students in its defence.

They were required to donate one day of their time per week and as much magic as they could channel without exhaustion setting in as well as their very lifeblood to fast charge and improve the wards at an astounding rate.

This was fortuitous as there had been sixteen attempts alone, during Harry's time as a student, to conquer the school and each time the wards had held and afterwards been further strengthened.

The plus side of this was that Harry could feel Beauxbatons like a second heartbeat if he were to close his eyes, almost as if he was a compass and a school was North as his very blood was a part of the school and a bedrock for many later improvements.

Still, there was a war on, and Harry could not be completely invisible without cutting himself off from the world entirely. It was because of this fact that Harry had two sets of troubling visitors figuratively or literally knocking on his door in as many weeks.

Harry was busy putting the final touches on his latest pet project. It was a thin staff that was a full head taller than him and on the top sat no great crystal orb or massive priceless ruby but one of the smallest (and the most perfect) diamonds that he had in his possession.

Although he was no great carpenter he thought that it did look remarkably good even almost completely covered in pulsing runes.

One end of the wooden staff was capped in iron (which was also covered in runes) and the other split almost like the fingers of a hand to grasp the small diamond nestled within it's wooden palm. If he were to hold it like a quarterstaff then where his hands naturally rested he had placed his lightsabers.

Admittedly this side project was not finished and had started as a way to conceal his lightsabers as well as break the monotony of time. He often missed the utility of his bionic arm and without that this was his attempt to conceal his lightsabers near where they could be of use and it had grown from there into something more than just that.

He had learned from his studies that directly tapping into a leyline was utter suicide as the last wizard to do that was Merlin himself and it, most likely, had cost the man his life. Regardless of whether the famous Enchanter was alive or dead (it was unclear) he certainly hadn't been seen since.

All of that remained true and yet there remained the temptation of almost infinite power churning away literally at Harry's feet as a small sub leyline ran down the middle of his property. He also knew that some gems could store wild magic, at least in theory, and diamonds could store more magic than any wizard could ever produce in his entire lifetime and could certainly store more than the most advance runestone that was crafted simply for that purpose.

So Harry, at first as an intellectual exercise, began trying to solve that particular conundrum by making this staff and hoped that it would safely charge from and channel the awesome power of the wild magic beneath his feet. After all if the Geological Forge could take in wild magic he saw no reason why the staff couldn't (at least to a limited degree).

Though unfinished and untested the staff before him was the culmination of this work. Many wizards had tried this of course and all had failed miserably and had given up seeking the answer to this problem for a variety of reasons.

Harry believe he knew where they went wrong. Spell magic carried the intent of the user, even power absorption spells, and as such they had their rules but much more importantly their were limited by the parameters of the spells themselves (or the runes) and as such when they were overloaded or otherwise broken they failed miserably.

Instead of trying to force magic into the staff he was going to let it soak (for a lack of a better term) in the wild unstructured magic of the leyline itself. He planned to do this for a few days as a simple test to see if it was even possible to make it work. Either the staff would explode or it would charge and be usable.

He was also aware that, in theory, the greatest downside to using wild magic was that he could not use conventional spells. His will and focus would be the key for not only using it but not dying in the attempt.

Harry was fine with that risk as the rewards could help him immensely in what he had to do and besides that the staff that he currently held was only meant to be a proof of concept not a final product . It was also a way to get the annoying idea out of his head as it would not leave his brain until he had at least tried.

He still had more rune work to do however (he estimated three days possibly four) as he was aware that no one had ever use runes in quite this way or in this particular combination.

He was quite happily sitting down to finish off his work when his wards alerted him to eight men approaching, of which two were wizards, and all were armed and so he quickly grabbed his wand and headed towards his front door.

Edward Longfellow was a self-important, self made and arrogant man.

He was born a baker's son who had little hope of being anything else. After all he knew that as the son of a peasant he was expected, even required, to join his father's business but to say that he was unhappy about his situation would have been a gross understatement.

That was probably going to be my fate, he thought, if not for the French pretenders denying King Edward (Edward III of England) his God given right to the throne of France.

He remembered very well the day that his life had changed.

It had started like any other boring Friday with him waking up with his father well before the sun rose in the sky and slowly getting ready for another monotonous day.

He had done his jobs such as making the dough and helping his elderly father in shaping the mornings bread before they placed it into the oven to bake. He had then placed the leftover bread from the day before at the front of the store and encourage every single customer to buy that first. He even smiled and joked with the customers as they came in but that bright smile did not reach his eyes.

Throughout the entire day he was not only bored but hoping against hope that something would save him, at the age of seventeen, from this being all his life could ever be. He was tired of baking, tired of the same routine and, most of all, he was tired of his father's incessant demands that he find a wife given his lateness in finding a partner.

Then his life had changed for the better when the Royal Army recruiter had visited Colchester. He hadn't even thought about the danger or what his father would think as he signed up in an instant more than eager for a change.

His father had been so furious, he remembered, that they had argued loudly and long into the night about it. His father had been of the mind that, having lost both his wife and two other son's to the Black Death, he was not eager to lose his one remaining child to foreign war over the French throne. They were bakers, he remembered his father saying, not princes and should stick to making good bread and leave politics for the high and mighty.

Edward was not to be dissuaded though as he wanted to be one of the high and mighty even if his father did not understand.

He had argued back, citing patriotism and the fact that the 'French Pretender' was not only denying England's legitimate blood claim to the throne but was also insulting it as well. He had spoken passionately about the glory that would be his and how he would be serving a greater cause than simply making bread by enforcing the true Kings right to the throne.

His father's face was full of disbelief at that argument. He knew that his son had never cared about such things before and he knew, they both did really, having watched the majority of his family pass that there was no honour or glory in death. His despair knew no bounds as he realised that all this time he didn't know his son at all... not enough anyway.

Edward just wanted to leave and because of how he left it they had not spoken since.

It had not taken Edward long to pack his meager belongings and soon he was being shipped, along with many others, to France and the 'glory' of the battlefield. He was never more grateful for the longbow training every peasant boy received growing up as he was sure that it would save his life in this deceptively peaceful looking land.

He was proven right fairly quickly as, almost as soon as they had arrived, his regiment of longbowmen were attacked in a cowardly french ambush.

He remembered the sudden rush of fear as if he was going to die any second and he recalled how his senses had come alive and the blood seem to rush around his body with extra speed even as time seemed almost slow as he registered the sudden appearance of his enemy.

He had killed five men that day. He had killed two with his bow and three with the long knife that was the standard issue for bowmen when the enemy got too close. He found that their death's did not bother him and he was fine with that as he saw it as a stepping stone to the riches that he wanted out of life.

Fortune was with him as one of those that he killed was a traitorous French Count. He had raided the bodies for loot swiftly and found, in coin alone on that particular corpse, more than his father had made in three months working non stop in the bakery.

He had also been 'rewarded' for his bravery and skill as well. He had hoped for some money, a transfer to a more prestigious unit or maybe even a small parcel of newly liberated France.

Instead the Black Prince had commanded, through his chain of command of course, that he (along with a few others) guard some magicians as they rounded up some of their hiding and traitorous brethren so that they may be pressed into honorable service for their country and their true King.

That was how he and five others found themselves escorting two loyal magicians around France and they were more than effective as they had already 'convinced' fifteen magicals to join their cause.

He understood, from one of the magicals in their group, that although they had a comprehensive list of graduating students from the last ten years at Beauxbatons so too had the enemy. He had also heard (though he hadn't seen it yet for himself) how effective they could be on the battlefield.

It was a race then, even he understood that much, and it was possible that the winner was whoever had the most wizards and witches and that they, in turn, would help decisively win this war and prove the English right to rule.

This all explained why he was charging around the countryside with six others instead of making his name on the _true_ battlefield. He personally hated this assignment but he would do his duty.

His distaste for his assignment was not purely from a selfish desire to advance himself through combat though, there was another reason as well. In the short time that he had known the wizards that he was protecting he had realised that he hated them, all of them, with a passion.

Everything was unnatural about them, he thought, they wasted their devilish gifts on selfish desires rather than in service to the King and everything about their way of life was unnerving.

Worse they could not plead ignorance as they were better educated than anyone else he had ever known. One example of that, in comparison to him, was that they could read and write while he could not and he was aware of how useful that skill could be and how much the nobles looked down on others who could not.

They could do almost miraculous things and, although he was called Longfellow due to his exceptional height (5 feet 11 inches), almost all of them equalled or eclipse him in that, and it added insult to injury to his already wounded pride.

They didn't even try to hide their differences, their... abnormalities. He had seen their homes and they were just a strange to him as the people that lived in them.

Some of their houses on the outside, looked like little more than a two room single storey whereas some others looked like beautiful soaring homes that seem to put the Royal Family themselves to shame. Worse then that, with the use of something called expansion runes and stabilising charms, they could be larger on the inside and rise even higher than the tallest natural building that he had ever seen.

He disliked them so much in fact that he had not even bothered to learn the names of the people that he was protecting as to him they were not even people... just a means to an end.

The house that he stood in front of was modest in comparison to some that he had seen and oddly he hated it all the more for that. It's seeming normalcy hid the wicked nature of the person that lived within.

He stood there ready to call out the next wizard from his home and thought about the next target on his list. As if to prove his thoughts the house was four storeys tall with Arches so thin and Windows so clear that they must have been made and reinforced with magic. He was told it was called Bluestone though he had no idea what that actually meant.

He scanned the house, with envy in his heart, and seeing no wizard coming out of the building he out of nerves checked his leather armour and gripped the fine iron short sword that was issued him and was the only perk of this job that he actually enjoyed.

He nodded to the closest wizard who he privately called wizard one in his mind as they, at least to him, deserved no true designation or recognition. The wizard to his credit knew just what that meant and he (along with his partner) took out several specially prepared wardstones and slowly, with a lot of effort and cursing, began to take down the protections on this home.

They were using something called runic sappers to offset the lack of magical power in the wizards outside as opposed to the wards that protected the home. Edward did not pretend to understand any of what they were talking about when they tried to explain it to him. He did know that whatever it was worked quite well though.

"Hello lads" Harry said after opening the door and taking the situation in at a glance.

The two wizards looked haggard and drawn out as no matter the preparation and no matter what they used to bring the protection down it was still no easy feat to take down the Nation's workmanship. "You could have just knocked you know?" The sarcasm in his voice was almost palatable.

Edward took a good look at the man before him and he immediately detested what he saw.

The man was 6 foot 2 inches tall and was dressed in clothes fine enough that Edward doubted the King could afford them (let alone himself) and he seemed to radiate the unnatural power of all wizards to a rather alarming degree.

More than that, though Edward had no unnatural yearnings himself, he could tell that the man was breathtakingly handsome. From his startling green eyes and his artfully messy hair to his excellent cheekbones and facial structure he seemed to mock everything that Edward was merely by existing.

"Open in the name of the King!" Edward commanded and he felt protected not only by the wizards at his side but also by the brigandine armour that he wore made of leather and steel and emblazoned with the Kings Crest proudly displayed on his left breast (it was a quartered crest with the first and fourth quadrant displaying the French coat of arms and the second and third the English one).

"Which King would that be exactly?" Harry mocked while eyeing the peacock of a man dismissively.

"The _rightful_ King" hissed Edward in response and Harry could only snort at that "King Edward III of England and France".

"There is no rightful King of France at the moment. The crown is contested" replied Harry calmly while giving Edward a look as if he was the slowest person in the entire universe. Over Edwards protests and the angry shouts of the group of soldiers before him he smiled before continuing "If it wasn't contested you wouldn't need those two and all their little toys to take down my wards muggle. You would simply need the King's permission to take them down and perhaps a vial of his blood. These wards are built on the lands of the King and if he withdrew his permission they would simply collapse. It is called the Royal Prerogative and is well known amongst my own kind".

"King Edward is the rightful King of France" said one of the wizards as the wards began to fail, one after the other, in an increasing cascade failure. All the men paused for a moment as there was a sound like a thunder clap and a bright light as the the remaining ward's all failed at once.

"Magic disagrees with you" Harry shrugged with his wand in hand "Although I do admit he may one day be recognised by magic as King of France assuming, of course, that he wins this war".

"Regardless" snapped Edward " you are Roland Vauquelin trained at Beauxbatons Academy for Magic and your rightful King requires your services". Edward's hand gripped his sword tighter with the threat clear in both his body language and his voice. " You will serve the true King or you will die the painful death of a traitor".

"Let me guess...You couldn't breach the schools wards and press gang the student body so your superiors decided the next best thing was to go after the recent graduates? How _predictable_ ".

Now Harry was openly sneering and he also had a random and very idle thought as he did so. I seem to be sneering a lot more lately... I don't remember doing that before I began this old adventure. I hope I don't get sneer lines.

By the end of this conversation the two wizards seemed to have recovered themselves to an extent and one of them turned to Harry. He was a bear of a man who, in a different time and profession, would not have looked out of place in a building site directing men and threatening them with his physique. His partner was the polar opposite as she was slim, willowy and had delicate features and barely topped 5 ft.

"Your wards are broken. You are outnumbered with not only us but master Longfellow, two crossbowmen and another three soldiers of the King's army with swords drawn. We have no desire to spill any magical blood or waste your talents but you will serve our cause or you will die as we cannot allow you to serve the French".

Harry knew that he could not flee even if he hadn't felt the apparition ward's snap into place while the wizard was talking and keeping him distracted. The flushed look on his partner's face would have been a dead giveaway as to what she was doing even if he senses had not been scanning for threats and changes.

Harry took a deep breath and a small second to evaluate his options.

Charms were immediately dismissed. Though they were low power and fast cast they rarely (with the notable exception of those dealing with animation) affected more than one person or object at a time. Added to that, given his history in Charms, these people might be expecting him to rely on them and, if so, could have prepared contingencies against that in advance.

Runes was also out. Not only would they expect that as well but he would have needed time to set them up as even temporary runes took between five and ten seconds to cast and Harry doubted that they would leave him alone that long.

Blood Magic was a possibility but, as he had no stored blood on hand he would have to injure himself and that was not a good idea in any combat situation. Also if the enemy wizards managed to get hold of his blood it would be absolutely disastrous.

Apart from all that Blood Magic worked best when enhancing one of the other disciplines such as, quite commonly, runes and wards or even certain aspects of dueling one-on-one.

That left two branches of magic (as the Dark Arts was not classified as a separate branch until the end of the Great War) that Harry was comfortable with...Transfiguration and Conjuration. These were considered the most difficult branches of standard magic to master not because of any great difficulty of concept but rather the struggles with application.

Both Transfiguration and Conjuration had the same upside as well as comparable faults and it made sense as they were both quite similar to each other. The upside was simple as they were the magical arts that required the least effort to learn in regards to nonverbal casting and they both had little to no wand movement. The difficulties (and why they were considered some of the hardest magics to learn) we're just as simple and somewhat connected to each other.

They were both power hogs for one, with Transfiguration requiring the least amount of power of the two, as creating something from nothing or reordering the structure of the universe (even on a small scale) was not something that could be reliably done by weak wizards.

The second reason that they were difficult was also the last and it was simply a problem with visualisation. More than any other magical art you needed a clear image of what you wanted to create or transfigure. A poor image would be worse than nothing as it would either be inferior than what you needed or worse it wouldn't work at all and either way you have then expended a lot of your own power to make it happen.

Despite his disgust for what Dumbledore had done to him Harry was well aware that the man must have been both powerful and very strong willed to be able to become a Transfiguration Master. Although even he used Charms more than Transfiguration and reportedly hated Blood Magic with a passion.

All that being said Harry was unclear how true that was as it appeared that he had used it to great effect at Harry's aunts and uncles home and Harry had once wondered how much that hatred was due to people's misuse of the art until he had decided that it simply did not matter.

Harry privately mused, when he had mused about it at all, that the slapdash nature of it as well as its ability to bend (sometimes) what was 'known' about magic simply offended the old man's sensibilities.

Dumbledore was nothing if not a planner and Harry reckoned that the fluid nature of Blood Magic would offend such a disciplined mind more than anything else.

Regardless, the disciplines of Transfiguration and Conjuration seemed to be his best choice. After all, he had the power to spare at the moment where his enemies did not.

Seeing that his opposition was spread out roughly in a semi-circle he whipped his wand quickly in a harsh and sudden movement from left to right creating, from thin, air fifteen rubber balls that immediately moved to pummel all of his opponents at almost bone breaking speed.

He did this to try and not damage the timeline too much as he was unsure what might happen if he actually killed one of them. For all he knew one of the wizards made up a part of Malfoy's ancestry and he, knowing his screwed up luck, would have to impregnate Narcissa to create Draco if that were the case if he accidently killed them.

As he had the disgusting thought of Draco being his child in his head (he was less concerned with impregnating Narcissa, if only as an abstract concept, as she was a fine looking woman after all) he found himself grateful that he had learned silent casting as he threw up a little in his mouth and that would have impeded him saying any spells while he reflexively swallowed.

In his defence however the image of becoming Draco's relation or somehow, Merlin forbid, his daddy was almost too much for him.

As expected the muggles in the group moved away from the fast moving projectiles while the wizards simply shielded (though they did so verbally) and that fact that they responded with dark variants of the cutting curse showed that they were not only unconcerned with his life but well trained given the relative newness of the charm.

Harry called on the Force to speed up his body and definitely spun out of the way. He was also grateful that the fast moving balls made the two crossbowmen drop their weapons as, even now, they were only just starting to reach for their swords.

This meant that he was not shot at while he moved to get a better position for his next attack.

However the sword wielding soldiers, to their credit, had continued to advance. This was where Harry's next step came in as he quickly turned two of the balls nearest the wizards into snarling panthers and they, in turn, quickly leapt up and buried the pair of wizards under their flesh while biting down on their wand arms sharply.

While the animals were otherwise occupying the magic users he met the swordsmen head on. People who were aware of them often forgot that the seven lightsaber forms could easily be adapted to be used in hand to hand combat.

Edward was embarrassingly unfamiliar with his new weapon and tried to use it more like a crowbar and that, combined with the fact that he was closest, meant that he went down first to a quick and brutal punch.

Thankfully for the timeline he went down in a boneless and unconscious, but not dead, heap.

With a skillful flick of his foot Harry brought the iron sword spinning through the air and managed to land it softly in his hand just in time to meet two blades coming down directly for his head.

Thankfully none of his remaining opponents had been trained by the Sith or the Jedi and so, within a few seconds, he had all three knocked out by the hilt of his borrowed sword. It was child's play for him from that point onwards to mop up his remaining muggle enemies.

"Hmmm...good balance" Harry muttered and then looked down on the knocked out cold Edward. "Now what do I do with this Percy Weasley wannabe?" He asked himself conversationally.

Coming to a swift decision he quickly subdued the two still struggling wizards although, in all fairness, the fact that they were still struggling with the panthers did help the situation a lot.

He then cut each of their palms and quickly, with a small click of his fingers, conjured a tiny paintbrush and painted runes of forgetfulness and confusion on the back of each person's neck. They glowed a soft red and then faded into the skin of his victims as if they never were and only then did he quickly heal their hands of the cuts.

Taking his cue from how Hogwarts hid itself from muggles Harry then implanted the idea that when they came upon his home they found a ruin and simply got lost on the way to the next name on the list. The fact that these two wizards barely understood the mechanics of apparition and the fact that there was a heavy storm last night helped these false memories seem real.

Harry was grateful, in a sense, that there had been as the Memory Charm was one of the few that he had come across that he still had not fully mastered (if only due to a lack of practice) so he had to whisper the incantation and, to be sure that it took, he also used his wand rather than his ring.

Then and only then did he wave his wand over the list that he had found on one of the wizards.

He couldn't destroy it lest the wizards become too suspicious but he could (and did) alter the names and places on the list. It may stop them from finding others for a while, it may not, but he did at least buy his unknown brethren some time.

Then he summoned all of his attackers together, double checked all of the spells that he had cast, and then placed a sleeping charm on them before muttering a simple "Portus".

With a muted flash they were five miles away and were soon to wake up confused and groggy. They would be utterly certain that Roland Vauquelin was either dead or had fled the country due to the war and, more than that as the home was a ruin, there was nothing that could be requisitioned for the war effort.

Harry wanted to be left alone and so he swiftly contacted Gringotts. Harry was privately amused that, at this time, the Fidelius Charm was a closely guarded secret and vastly out of the price range of most wizards.

They had informed him that they would install it in one week as they were quite busy. War was good for business after all and until then Harry would return to his reading and his side project for as long as he could.

Two days before the charm could be put up the French army came knocking but, this time, it was just three wizards and they actually had the decency to magically 'knock' on his door.

Harry thought that was a nice touch especially as it had taken him the better part of a day to repower the wards that the English had knocked down (thankfully that was all they needed as the runestone was still intact and not overloaded by the cascade failure).

What was not a nice surprised however was that when he went to open the door the wizards before him were led by one Alexander Malfoi.

Alexander Malfoi was, aside from being a wizard, almost everything that Edward Longfellow wished he could be. Though not titled he was exceptionally wealthy, classically handsome, urbane (to a point) and was currently one of the most eligible bachelors of his time outside of the Royal Dynasties themselves.

He was also full of overwhelming pride, stubborn and more than a little narcissistic.

That, coupled with the likely fact that someone from his line eventually produces Draco is why I have always strived to have as little to do with him as possible, thought Harry, deeply wary of the man.

He knew that this man was of the French line rather than the (relatively recently established) English one but, given the pureblood habit of breeding with close family members he couldn't Harry sure that it wouldn't affect the timeline.

When Harry stepped out to meet them he was very grateful that, in the intervening time since his last unexpected visitor, he had not only managed to complete the staff but that he had also managed to remember to carry it out with him as well.

"His Majesty King John the Good wishes to see you" began Alexander in a tone that brooked no argument against his, or the Kings, will.

"No" Harry said. Still despite Malfoi's tone denial is exactly what he got and though the brief look of surprise that flitted across the mans face was entertaining to Harry it did not last long.

"Be reasonable. If you do not come willingly we will tear down these wards and take you to him in irons". Malfoi was using his best politicians voice now and Harry could almost feel the oiliness of it slither over his skin. Although it was a good tactic to manipulate people it was nothing compared to what Harry had felt from the Sith so long ago.

Sagging his head in apparent defeat as he did not want his wards broken again (it had after all been an utter pain in the arse to fix them the last time) he began to move towards the ward line with an exaggerated limp. Malfoi's eyebrows raised at that and at the staff that he carried.

"A horse kicked me last week" Harry answered the unspoken question with a quick lie "what with the unrest from this conflict I haven't been able to see a healer about it yet".

"I am sure that we can arrange one" replied Alexander magnanimously in a silky smooth tone of voice. After all why shouldn't he be magnanimous, as far as he was concerned, he had won. "I see that you have runes arranged around the stuff but I can't quite make out…. oh concealing runes. Very clever that". The patronising tone at the end of his sentence was so strong that it was almost a living thing.

"You didn't really expect me to use any old branch like a common muggle did you?" Harry replied with a false sneer.

"Of course not. We _are_ wizards after all" Malfoi responded with a sneer of his own but, in his case, it was genuine. The only muggle that Malfoi respected was the King of England but he was, as a King, hardly common and to his mindset power trumped all...even a lack of magic.

The very instant that Harry crossed the ward line his eyes turned cold and the staff almost seemed to slam down on the earth beneath his feet. Even as the ground shuddered and buckled beneath him a great wave of colourless magic rushed out and Malfoi and the two other wizards were thrown high into the air already unconscious.

Before he could celebrate however Harry realised that he was in a deep amount of trouble.

The entire staff was glowing and the runes were almost as bright as the sun even as they pulsed ominously.

Harry felt a deep pain as his hand was quickly and heavily burned as if he had stuck it into a raging inferno and held it there for at least a minute and he knew he did not have a lot of time.

More than the pain he was feeling however, he was objectively speaking, disappointed. It appeared that his staff side project was a failure and, more than that, a complete waste of time. When he held it and used it he had felt the difference between the wild magic and the magic deep within his own core.

He did not know why but he did sense that the Force was more aware, for lack of a better term, than magic.

The Force could actively guide whereas magical seers could only gather fragments of the future and the Force sometimes allowed itself to be commanded so, in some senses, it could be argued that it was as alive and conscious as Harry himself. Magic however was very different.

He did not know if it was that magic was less 'evolved' or even simply a younger force of the universe but, instead of a gentle voice or servant, magic was much more like an animal. The magic in his core was much more like a puppy in that it was, not only willing but, eager to be used and it was so playful and energetic as well as full of a deep sense of connection to him.

Wild magic however was as different from that as the light side was from the dark.

If his core was more like an eager puppy full of tamed and playful magic then wild magic was instead it's snarling and wild wolf cousin. It raged with almost alien, though simplistic, desires and had no attachment to him at all.

More than that however it did not like to be trapped. All it wanted was to be _free_.

As he looked down at the shaft Harry got a great sense of foreboding and, knowing he had no time left, he threw the staff high into the air. With a scream of utmost desperation he poured everything he could into the Force and his magic pushing it up and higher away from the ground.

He was just in time as he staff exploded in a wave of white light that almost blinded him and, if the others had been conscious like him, they too would have had the sudden urge to grab their ears and fall over and vomit.

Harry stood slowly and shook himself clear of that spectacular display (as well as vanishing the vomit) as he had no time at the moment to dwell on it. Instead he set about dealing with the French much as he had with the English.

Two days later the Goblin Nation came by and hid Bluestone from the world as effectively as they knew how. They were even generous enough to make him the Secret Keeper of his home.

Harry did not let on that he already knew the charm (having learned the particulars from Hermione on one dreary evening in the study of Grimmauld Place) as, in this time, it was a closely guarded secret in the Nation and as it needed at least two wizards or other magic users to make it work as one would cast the spell and the other would be the Secret Keeper it was mostly useless to him.

Harry assumed that wizards bought the knowledge of it from them at some point in the future or discovered it independently. Harry never did ask where the origin of the spell came from and, at the time as now, it hardly seemed important.

Regardless, at this moment in time, it was currently a well guarded secret that Goblin Nation offered, at great expense, to certain valued customers and protected it with layers upon layers of secrecy spells.

Needless to say, as there was a war on, business was booming.

Two weeks later Harry had come to a difficult decision.

He stared at the empty cryostasis tubes wondering if he really could afford to do this. The fact of the matter was that he really had no choice as, no matter what he did here, he risked changing time if he interacted with anyone else.

He could rationalise his decision in any number of ways but it was more than that, more than any simple rationalisation, if he was being honest with himself and over his very long life he always tried to be honest with himself even if he couldn't be honest with everyone else.

His long life was the very problem that he was considering as, although he looked like he was in his early twenties, he was nearly seventy years old and he felt like it. He knew that that feeling would only get worse and, although his new younger bodies health and hormones blunted some of the effects, he was still much closer to his mental age than not.

He could feel himself falling into the trap that sometimes comes with advanced age and that was the idea that great age went hand in hand with wisdom.

The sad truth of it was that it often didn't and that, because people believed that it did, great errors were sometimes made in the name of wisdom as detached surefooted older generations made sweeping changes to the world around them even if they never would have to live with the consequences of their actions.

If he lived through the next several centuries, he wondered, would Luna recognise him? Would he even be able to recognise himself after all that he had done and would do?

He was smart enough to realise that knowing Luna after all of this time would be more than an uphill battle at this moment without adding several centuries of life to the mix.

It would be hard enough to catch her up on his life up to this point (though he had some ideas of how to do that) let alone the centuries that he would experience while he just waited for her to be born with nothing else to do but study and, hopefully, he would not go mad from the loneliness.

He did actually have several things to do, protect the timeline, prepare for his visions of the future and defeat Voldemort chief among them at the moment but it would all mean nothing to him if she no longer recognised who he was.

What was the point of a long life, he wondered, if in living it he was forced to live his life alone with no chance of having her?

He knew intellectually that his chances of being with her now after all this time were slim but, in his heart, he couldn't shake the feeling that if he didn't do what he planned that any chance he had left would be gone forever.

Wasn't love supposed to be the point of life? And if it was not what was the point of living a long life at all? What was the point of any of it? He wondered.

"Are you sure about this Master?" Asked GE3 with a note of concern in it's androgynous synthetic voice. "The opportunities to learn more are almost endless after all".

"As sure as I am about anything my friend" Harry replied quietly. "Remember to wake me briefly every fifty years so that I can use the chair".

"Of course Master" said GE3 indignantly as if he was offended by the very idea that he would not. "I will of course also remember to wake you fully in the year 1900 A.D." the droid continued preempting Harry's next reminder couched as a question.

Harry smiled softly and took a long look around his ship before nodding his head and stepping into the cryotube.

He had been a Jedi too long not to trust his feelings and so he began his very long sleep.

Far away and on a distant world Darth Ruin growled in barely restrained anger.

The sudden financial crisis and subsequent weakness of the Republic should have been music to the Sith's ears but it wasn't as their cause was suffering just as much as the Republic itself.

The reason for this was as maddening as it was simple. Darth Bane's plan for the destruction of the Jedi and, coincidently, the downfall of the Republic required time and a great deal of maneuvering that would take centuries to complete. This was one of the main reasons why the ultimate progenitor of his Order had instituted the Rule of Two in the first place.

This crisis however had not been of their design and it had begun so quickly that they (he and his Apprentice) hadn't even been in a position to benefit from it in the slightest and were now backpedaling to save as much as they could.

In short they had been caught with their proverbial pants down.

They had lost money, more companies than he could count and found that some of the most valuable assets (especially people) had been bought and paid for or otherwise neutralised by Potter Industries.

Potter had shown his teeth and the cowards had run in abject fear and no Sith liked either being upstaged or having there natural weapon, even indirectly, turned against them he mused.

Potter would pay, he thought, the memory of the Sith order was long and he had interrupted (if only for this brief moment) their grand plan of ascension to the masters of all that they had always deserved to be.

William Potter may currently be untouchable but his descendants were not and soon enough, he daydreamed, they would feel the wrath of a Sith.

The Sith were nothing if not forward thinkers and, with that decided, Ruin returned to his damaged financial dealings and uncertain allies sure in the knowledge that, one day, the Sith would rise once again. The next time though, he vowed, nothing and no one would stop them.

After the Jedi, Ruin decided with relish, Potter and everything he loved or ever could have loved would _burn_.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19: The Little Book and Fighting the Will of Time

1900 - 2000 A.D.

Harry awoke with the comforting sounds of the cryo chamber disengaging knowing that this was finally the time that his plans could begin to be set in motion. As always after he woke from a similar 'sleep' he felt a bit queasy and took several slow and deep breaths for just over a minute until the feeling had passed on its own.

"GE3?" Are you there my friend?" Harry called out into the darkened bowels of his ship.

"Yes Master I am" came the voice of his only friend on Earth at this moment. It called out to him from the darkness and, soon enough, GE3 appeared from deep within the inky blackness to help him stand after his long hibernation.

"Is there any news other than the usual updates?" Harry asked his faithful companion.

"Yes Master. The recon droids that you have periodically sent to watch persons of interest have reported something intriguing in regards to Dumbledore. It appears that though he was set to go on the traditional Grand Tour that most students of this time participate in instead he cancelled at the last minute with absolutely no warning and citing a family emergency.

"What level of education has he achieved?" Harry asked "And can you project how long until he becomes a member of the teaching staff at Hogwarts?".

"He has managed to gain a Mastery of Transfiguration under the private tutelage of Nicholas Flamel. From the information that we have been able to gather from the Goblin Nation and other sources it is quite likely that he's also learnt a fair amount of Alchemy and perhaps even a smattering of Blood Magic. It is unclear exactly when he will become a member of the teaching staff however many believe it will happen soon and, as further incentive for the man to accept, teachers are known to continue their studies during the break between student years and Dumbledore has made it clear that he wants more than one Mastery. He has even intimated on many occasions that he would like to try for a Sorcerer's qualification in at least one subject" stated GE3 blandly.

"What of my own subjects? Have they improved over the years?"

"Yes and no Master, There are three rather large books covering the official advancements on your desk in your study at Bluestone. That being said a great deal of what you were taught, as well as a great many possibly useful advancements, have been classified over the years".

"So what you're saying is that too an extent I am _over_ educated rather than undereducated then? Harry said amused at the idea.

"Yes Master" was the droids very simple reply.

Harry quickly gestured for GE3 to follow him as he left his ship but, he only did so after first sitting in the chair to catch himself up on the most recent events of the wider Galaxy. Then and only then did he carefully and quietly move into his newest home.

The term home however was very loosely applied here as there were no personal items in the building and the few pieces of furniture that were in the home were covered by dust sheets although they were both expensive, tasteful and completely unconnected to Harry on any personal level.

Still as he moved through the home Harry pulled off the sheets raising great clouds of dust into the air as GE3 followed behind him dutifully.

"Master? Can I ask a question?" Asked the droid in his synthetic tone while somehow managing to infuse it was a sense of curiosity.

"Of course GE3... what is it?"

"You have all the timeline to choose from and could have picked any point in the future to begin to affect things for the better. Why then did you choose now? Voldemort will not be born for more than twenty years after all"

"Two very simple reasons" answered Harry. "First I need something from Hogwarts and it is vitally important that Dumbledore not be there or aware that I've ever taken it. You must understand that, in my time, his history is well known at some point in the next year the Headmaster of Hogwarts Phineas Nigellus Black will offer him the post of Transfiguration teacher at Hogwarts. From that point on, aside from his other official duties, he rarely if ever leaves Hogwarts and it would be very difficult to work around him. Combine that with the fact that the goblins have told me there are no Potters in Hogwarts at this present moment and it seems like the perfect time to act".

"Forgive me Master but when did they tell you this?"

"I was given the dates of birth and death in relation to my father and my grandfather in my third year when I originally stayed at Diagon Alley. I was also told that I should come back to learn more but, quite ironically, was never able to find the time especially with Dumbledore's band of useless watchers".

"What then is the second reason?" Pressed GE3

"Neville mentioned something years ago and I need to research that as well as place contingencies upon my assets and begin my plan to deal with Voldemort and others like him" responded Harry.

"Surely it is just a matter of killing him?" Said a quizzical GE3.

"Voldemort is a symptom but not the actual problem. I haven't decided yet what I'm going to do about that and so I will need several options at least".

"I did receive one piece of good news that you have been waiting for" began GE3 "There is a solution of sorts to the elf problem". The droid then passed Harry a datapad and then simply stood there waiting for his next instruction.

"Good... and they even managed to use time appropriate materials, or near enough, to make it work" Harry commented. He then began to read the pad and, as he did so, he began to frown. At length, he had finished he left his home without a word leaving GE3 to uncover and reactivate the things in the house.

Once he was past the ward line he was quickly gone with a small and almost silent pop.

He reappeared on the steps of Gringotts Paris (unbeknownst to Harry though they had eventually set up apparition wards in La Ruelle Magique they hadn't done so until just after Voldemort first began his rise) and he was pleased to see that the bank now resembled the one in Britain from his memories. He was also surprised by how comforted he was by that and he was happy to see that they had even installed the plaque on the wall with the poem regarding thieves.

As he had before, both hundreds of years ago by their reckoning and a handful of days by his, he strode into the bank as if he had all the right in the world to be there. There were lines in the bank that stretched back almost to the door but he ignored it as, by goblin custom, premium account holders did not have to queue. He may have interacted with the Goblin Nation in other ways but, for the most part, had not needed to enter the bank personally in a very long time.

Instead of joining a line he instead called out to a passing goblin who, though unhappy to be stopped, did pause and seemed about to bitingly tell him to get into the queue (without looking at who he was talking to if his sneering face was any indication). He was stopped from the unwise action buy Harry's raised open palm and, when he finally did look Harry in the eye, his face froze between a sneer and disbelief.

"I will speak to my Account Manager now" stated Harry abruptly still quite aware that the Goblin Nation hated to waste time.

Finally the goblin came out of his self-imposed stupor and his expression morphed into almost adoration. He even fumbled and almost dropped the items he was carrying (which happened to be a great number of almost priceless gems). To be fair to the goblin though he had realised that he was speaking to one of the most valued customers in the bank that no one had seen inside its walls in a very long time and so his shock was understandable even if his superiors would not have forgiven it.

The goblin nodded his head very swiftly, multiple times almost like a new magical bobblehead, even as he carelessly placed the gems on the nearest surface and gestured for Harry to follow him. He knew that he did not need to worry about the safety of the gems in Gringotts, as if anyone tried to steal them, they would wish for death before it finally came.

The Goblin Nation may have been bankers by treaty but they were always first and foremost warriors and, to their own morals, very ethical ones at that. That's not to say they didn't do things that humans didn't agree with in general (for example torture) but they had their own code and they stuck to it with an almost religious zeal.

It also should be pointed out that it wasn't that they did not like being bankers, they did love gold after all, but they enjoyed combat and creating new pieces infinitely more. Banking, to them, was more of a side business and while they were exceptionally good at it their heart had always beat for the drums of battle.

As Harry walked through the bank he drew some attention. It wasn't the fact that he didn't get in the queue, quite a lot of rich account holders tried that with varied amount of success, and Account Managers were also standard for the richer clients. The reason that he was getting so much attention from other customers of the bank stemmed from the fact that whenever he passed a goblin, though they didn't stop their work, they nodded to him in an almost respectful way.

Goblins were never respectful to humans, so the common wisdom went, and it did not help that no wizard in the bank could remember them ever doing it for anyone no matter the size of their particular bank account. The wizards in the bank then were dumbfounded and stopped to stare at this unknown man who the goblins didn't even attempt to sneer at. They actually seem to, if not like, then respect the wizard that moved with them as if he belonged there.

After reaching the very same door that he first entered so long ago his guide, like last time, knocked and left without a word although he did shallowly bow at Harry before he did so. If it wasn't for the age of the old oak door (visible despite the charms placed into the wood which, to Harry's sight were as artfully placed as the brushstrokes of a world renowned painter) and the changes in the bank proper Harry could almost imagine that it was his first meeting once again.

Although he had noticed, by this point, that the goblins no longer carried any type of wand and seemed more distrustful of wizards than ever despite his own treatment.

Thankfully this isn't my first meeting, Harry thought, as I have enough trouble with time travel as it is without adding time loops or another trip to the past into the mix.

"Enter" came the voice of a goblin.

Harry moved into the old office and, apart from the same greeting, the sense of deja vu was most apparent in the office itself. It even smelt the same to him with the odd musky scent that came with all goblins as well as the smell of ink and cooked meat (it was clear to him, if it hadn't been before, that goblins were great believers in the idea of a working lunch).

"Account Manager" Harry began with great formality "I am here to discuss the business of both my Account and my House".

"Harry Potter" said the goblin sitting behind a desk and speaking in an orderly appropriate Gravelly tone of voice. It sounded like two rocks slowly grating together trying to make a music that humans would never understand.

"You know of me?" Asked Harry curiously.

"Aside from being your Account Manager? All of Gringotts know of you and your story. After all, before the Flammels we had never had another immortal of any sort visit us other than you unless you count phoenixes and vampires. As phoenixes do not bank and vampires pay a heavy price for their immortality coupled with the fact that goblins cannot become vampires it is hardly surprising that we know of you. I am Sharptooth and I am the one responsible for managing your assets".

"Any relation to…?" Harry asked leaving the question hanging in the air.

"I am the third of that name. The Sharptooth that you knew was my many times great grandfather and, not only did he speak highly of you, but he served his family, his clan, Gringotts and you well. It was, of course, in that order". The response was positively pleasant sounding for a goblin.

"You do realise that he did not like me at all at first?" Asked Harry.

"I am aware of that yes... unlike the majority of wizardkind we do however learn from our mistakes" Sharptooth responded even as his face and tone showed just how low his opinion of wizards was as a whole.

Harry snorted out loud at that as he couldn't help but agree with the goblin's sentiments.

"What is the state of my finances?" Harry asked getting right to the point.

"Here" Sharptooth passed him two folders and both had helpful summary pages magically stapled to the front of them. "They are the accounts that are, or one day will be, under your direct control. I managed to speak to my counterpart for the Potter accounts and have gotten the relevant information for them as well. That is the second folder that you are holding but until you become Lord Potter you cannot alter them as that is solely his privilege nor can you access more than the information as no matter how we bend the treaty between us and the wizards we would then have to inform the current Lord Potter of your actions".

"Of course" came Harry's easy reply as if he expected it all along and the reaction made Sharptooth chuckle loudly.

It was an odd sort of laugh as, given the goblins rocky tone, it sounded somewhere between a river of gravel falling down a hill and a small avalanche. Harry could not see, for the life of him, what was so funny about his acceptance and said as much.

"You wouldn't believe how many whelps... the so-called heirs to the Ancient and Noble families... that scream and wail over the fact that they can not touch their families principle money until they become head of their family. It has become so common in recent years that there is even a standard betting pool for how long it will take them to do so from the time that they, at eleven, are first informed of this fact. All the betting revolves around how long it will take them to moan and wail about the unfairness of it all and you can even get bonus coins if they scream in a tellers face though, of course, the families of those unfortunate souls soon regret it as they are heavily sanctioned by Gringotts. None of the truly self-entitled families have made it past ten minutes yet and before you ask, no you cannot bet, as it is goblins only I am afraid. Yet here you prove yourself a surprise once again as you not only do not wail but accept the facts as they are given to you".

"I'm glad that I amuse you so" said Harry flatly ignoring the ensuing laughter that his reaction caused.

"I am sorry Mr Potter. It is just funny that the second largest, as well as the most respected (although that was admittedly not saying much given the general opinion of his competition) Account Holder in the Nation is riled up so easily".

"Sorry _what_ was that?" Harry asked not quite believing what he had heard.

"In your last message to my ancestor you asked us to 'avoid Britain but go out and make me money' and that is exactly what we did. You, unlike other wizards, place no other limitations on our use of your then modest fortune" Sharptooth nodded once, quite strongly, at the folders that Harry had yet to read. "That show of trust on your part endeared you to the Nation and, more than that, caused us to aggressively invest your money until it has become a rather large fortune. Admittedly this is a bigger deal to us then it might otherwise be as we are often restricted by many different instructions from our clients and then blamed when our investments fail due to those instructions. Still it doesn't change the fact that, in terms of wealth, you are third in France or if you prefer second in Britain behind your birth family. When you take command of the Potter family fortune on the 18th of June in the year 2000 you will become the wealthiest wizard in Western Europe. You will in fact be only very distantly followed by the fortune of the Longbottoms".

"What about the English Malfoy's?" Harry asked curious despite himself.

"They are as of this moment a minor, though heavily political, family here and although they have a great deal of wealth to some comparing the size of that to the wealth of the Longbottoms would be like comparing a giant to a dragon. I cannot be more specific than that as neither are or will be your accounts".

Harry glanced at the summaries in his hand and found that, in terms of money, his current account was about the same as that of his family. They, like the Longbottoms he supposed, were extremely wealthy, the Potter's from their potion inventions (given that most modern potions used them as a base) and the Longbottoms brewery and partial stake in the butterbeer business. After all just because he was asleep it did not mean that he was dead and so he picked up a few things from notices and gossip in the Gringotts lobby as it appeared both families sons were the most eligible bachelors of their day and were fodder for gossip even here in the bank.

The main overriding difference between his account and those of the other two was that his were being overseen by some very motivated goblins. Given that when Harry looked at the summary page, under projected wealth, he was not as surprised as he might have been to learn that at current rate is personal wealth would eclipse the Potter's within a decade.

The one area in which the Potter Vaults truly eclipsed his own was in the family heirlooms and items department. The Potter's had a long and proud history that stretched back far beyond Camelot and far further than even the Nation's magic could track. This meant that, although they were not wealthy until relatively recently, they had a large selection of items in history that Harry could only envy and, as an orphan, longed to see.

"What about the relationship between the Longbottom and Potter families?" Harry asked changing the subject as he knew that he would be unable to view any of those things until, at the very earliest, time caught up with itself. He would be in an odd position after his earlier self turned elven as, if he were to access them then, the goblins were honour bound to report him to... himself.

"The Longbottom Potter Alliance began almost 1000 years ago when Silas Potter saved the life of the Viking Harfang Longbottom. Instead of calling in the life debt and making him a slave, which was very common at the time though notably the Potter's hadn't done it, Silas chose to forgive the debt by asking for a single gold coin. Ever since that day where a Potter led a Longbottom followed bound, not in debt, but in honour and friendship. Abnormally for wizards it has both survived and been an open and honest friendly arrangement throughout the centuries".

Sharptooth clearly did not care for wizards, if the normal tone of his voice was anything to go by, but, at this moment his speech was almost reverent as to a goblin all you had in your life in the end was your honour and it clearly pleased him that some humans could show a modicum of that.

"Tell me more please?" Asked Harry. He knew so little of his family history that it was difficult for the proud man that he was to keep a begging tone out of his own voice.

Sharptooth's first instinct was to refuse as this was not going to make him any money but, seeing the man before him, he reminded himself that this was not a normal wizard and that certain allowances could be made on occasion given Harry Potter's unique situation.

Over the next few hours Harry sat and learned from the a goblin a great deal of his family history and it included everything about their relationship with the Longbottoms. That was not all though as he learned of the trials and tribulations of those long dead men and women and it inspired something deep within him almost as if he could see all of his ancestors comfortably watching and supporting him. He learned of all their losses and triumphs as well as their pains and hopes. He even learnt that the Longbottoms and the Potters intermarried occasionally, with the last being three centuries ago, making Neville (though not his grandmother as she married into the family from another minor pure blood House) a family member no matter how distant.

After many hours, as well as sharing a meal with the descendant of his first Account Manager, Harry gratefully took a portkey to one of the few places that he must always be careful of no matter the time frame.

He travelled to Wizarding Britain and, more specifically, the Gringotts branch in the middle of Diagon Alley.

Ordinarily the issue of international portkeys was heavily regulated by the I.C.W. with multiple checkpoints and several ways of confirming both the persons identity and their intentions in regards to their travel.

To Voldemort this was a concern because, although they had a very narrow mandate, the I.C.W had the potential to be a very large and ugly problem for him. It was why he had not recruited from abroad very much as, in theory, they could draw wizards from their member states to combat him if he shattered the Statue of Secrecy and they would do so if he even dared try or gave any hint of thinking about it.

They had taken the view, during his first rise, that it was a local problem and had been assured by many from Dumbledore to the Minister that it was a local problem well in hand. In short they lied through their teeth and were left with a stern warning about Voldemort crossing international borders or breaking the Statue. They also had damaged their international reputation greatly after his fall and the I.C.W. had taken a dim view of both men ever since.

Voldemort had always intended to deal with them but, given their resources, it would have to be after the magical world was broken under his heel. He had then planned to quietly build allies on the international stage and armies at home to take the muggle world in one glorious push and then bring the fight to the I.C.W.

Still this meant that international travel had been a concern for certain people since the founding of the I.C.W. and even though Voldemort (and in theory Harry) would be powerful enough to avoid that and disguise his intentions if necessary (as no system was perfect) his followers were certainly not powerful enough.

Although the Nation had no definitive proof of it they shared the theory with Harry that the Dark Mark did much more than brand the soul of his followers and, as masters of enchantment, they were likely correct. There was also the fact that they may have abducted a low level Death Eater or two to conduct their 'research' though Harry never did ask as their grins when they spoke about the research was enough to dissuade anyone with half a brain.

It did do that of course, not to the extent that they would die when he did sadly, but it did allow the old paranoid bastard that Riddle was to draw a minute amount of power from each of his individual followers when he had a need. Given the impressive nature of that magic that created it it was not hard to believe that he had imbedded something in it that would help them carry out his will and lessened the chances of detection by the I.C.W.

That is an interesting factoid of runes, Harry thought, they so easily lend themselves to concealment and subterfuge. Then again, his thoughts continued, if they didn't a great many Curse Breakers would be out of business not to mention dead as both they and the tombs they targeted relied on them heavily.

It was deeply amusing to Harry, when he had idly looked up the history of rune making, that the original purpose of them was to replace enchanting. Each race was different and, though some magical skills were universal, the art of enchanting while being common to goblins was exceedingly rare among humans and so runes were created as an alternative to that as the majority of wizards could only manage the barest touches of the art.

This was not what Harry chose however as he considered it overly complicated for his purpose when anyone who paid attention to history would realise that there was a much easier route. In Voldemort's defence he had never had a good relationship with the Goblin Nation as he had never approached them from a position of true strength but only one of trying to cower them with fear and terror.

Needless to say they did not respond well to that.

It was all yet more of a sign to both the Nation and Harry that wizards were both willfully foolish and routinely practiced a form of revisionist history that, not only was certain information not widely known, but that Voldemort would attempt such a tactic on them in the first place.

Harry's method, after all, was to simply travel using the Nations network of banks.

Muggleborns made several mistakes when it came to the nature of the Wizarding World. The biggest mistake they made was that the culture of their new world was hundreds of years behind that of the 'normal' world and they were right to a point but they were also very very wrong.

They wrongly assumed that the Ministry of Magic reported to the Prime Minister as a part of the muggle Government but that was not the case. Technically they reported only to the King or Queen of the country that they lived in though, in practice, that had fallen to the wayside and they functioned as (often legally) foreign countries with the same Head of State.

It made sense in a way as the modern muggle systems of government were not implemented until long after the the Statue of Secrecy was established. They had legally diverged at that point, though they had been apart in practice long before that, and when muggles were still fighting over whether the Earth was flat wizards were extending their lives and studying the nature of their gifts.

The reason that they believed this, amongst other things, was that no one was particularly inclined to correct their assumptions. The Moderates in the Wizengamot did not believe that it was their place, the Dark Faction used that ignorance against them and the Traditionalists were much less concerned with teaching them rather than simply keeping the unique nature, culture and history of the wizards alive and relevant to the day they lived in.

Gringotts was similar in the fact that it was not, despite some people's belief, a part of the Wizarding World. It was its own Sovereign State and as such could use it's own portkeys on its own ground. It just had very open borders with its neighbours to help facilitate commerce and Harry had never asked about their particular relationship with the Crown as, not being a citizen of the Nation, it was hardly his concern.

That fact and some aging potion was, Harry hoped, enough to safely have a small visit to Britain without damaging the timeline. He was aware that, according to the writings of the Infinite Empire, time seemed to have a will and that it wanted history to happen a certain way and he hoped that it worked in his favour here.

As Harry took a deep calming breath to settle his nerves he distracted those nerves by thinking of more differences while slowly walking down the streets of Diagon Alley towards the apparition point at one end of it.

Though it was well known that the age of consent in the Wizarding World was fourteen muggleborns assumed that the reason that it was that way was due to the fact that the Wizarding World was extremely backward. Though they sometimes had a point the Muggle World had not only instituted the first age of consent after the separation but it had been significantly lower being only twelve at the time.

That was besides the fact that the reasons behind the age were different than those of the muggles themselves as the Wizarding World was very small and so called 'modern' social conventions conveniently often forgot or disregarded the most important thing in their culture.

Bloodlines and the continuation of their diverging species.

There had been some allowances in recent years with small increments of change that both sides thought too little of. If the Dark had their way then certain classes (like muggleborns) would at best become baby factories to dramatically increase the species. The muggleborns wanted as much integration with the 'real' world as possible under the Statue of Secrecy.

For example the major schools forbade their students to procreate before sixteen and were allowed to use magic to see that it did not happen. It was, after all, desired that the future mothers gain an education first so that they may have been of use afterwards and that the expectant fathers study to take their place in the world before they dealt with the demands of being a parent.

Still, it was not only common for betrothal contracts to be made during their time at school but it was also heavily _suggested_ that the two produce at least one heir right out of school (or nearly so) as Harry's parents had done. Of course in this some, purebloods mostly, were their own worst enemy as they did not produce more than one being deeply concerned about future infighting in the family and keeping the lines full of 'the right sort'.

When the few muggleborns that had learned of this complained at the barbarity of it they were often simply laughed at outright. From the wizards perspective here was a group of relative strangers to a world that they were only just starting to understand preaching to a culture that was older than their own (the roots of it anyway) and decrying it's barbarity without understanding, often without wanting to understand, the true reasons behind it.

Why shouldn't they be offended, thought Harry, as far as they could make out the first true wizard city was sometime before 15000 BCE back when the current societies didn't even exist.

In some ways, to most wizards, those that didn't find out were worse as they hadn't even attempted to understand the reasons behind it and instead stuck to the idea that an arbitrary number was suitable to determine when someone can reproduce.

Nevermind that in Harry's time there were several movements that seeked to either abolish the age of consent in the Muggle World and replace it with something else or lower it back to twelve... to these people the muggle way was simply better than the world they had stepped into.

For all of its faults (and the Wizarding world had many) fourteen was chosen solely because that was the state at which the latest blooming witches were magically stable enough to carry a future magical child to term with minimal risk to the offspring and their magic. With potions childbirth was not a risky prospect to wizards and witches and so their sole concern was the safety and protection of the future generations.

All factions in the Wizengamot agreed on this and it was also one of the few things that they unanimously agreed on. After all, to even the darkest members, blood did count but the continuation of their near human species and magic counted for far more.

Shaking his head and thereby trying to remove the errant thoughts from his brain he reached the apparition point and disappeared with a small pop.

He reappeared in Hogsmeade silently. The village had a timeless quality to it as, aside from the shrieking shack not being 'haunted' it looked almost exactly the same as it would a century from now. It's odd shaped buildings and bustling people were quintessentially wizarding in their nature in that it (and they) were both quirky, beautiful and sad.

The village was sad because although it embraced wizarding culture it ignored the greater world. The buildings had not changed (and would not, Harry assumed, until well past his time) and that no attempt had been made in either this time or Harry's later time to adapt to new ideas from the greater world was understandable but that the people were most likely unaware of them at all was disappointing to say the least.

Innovation to the people below, especially in Harry's native time, began and ended inside the Wizarding world as far as they were concerned. Even things like the Wizarding Wireless, which was clearly somehow ripped off from the muggle world, made no mention of that fact nor did it mention that radio, in the main, had been supplanted by television among the 'poor silly muggles'.

They had made some innovations themselves, such as rapidly improving potions classes, and even Harry was impressed with that (he had begun self-study to compliment the training he had already received and to bring it up to the new standard although thanks to Snape's influence he would never be a Potions Master having been soured on the subject).

However, in the main, that was as far as their progression had gone. It was almost as if they had reached this point and then simply plateaued believing that only magic was important and seemingly blinded themselves to most of the planet and it's progressions.

That was not to say that all the innovations in the muggle world would ever work here as the cultures were clearly becoming too different but, to Harry, it seemed utter foolishness not to be aware of them or to ignore them.

Harry doubted that they would ever know that the second Boer War was currently in full swing and, as such, the country that their little fiefdom was nestled in was in a state of War.

Still the fact that they were absorbed with the own business helped Harry at the moment. He knew from the goblins that the Transfiguration Professor post would become vacant at the end of the school year and now, just before Christmas, the I.C.W. and the Hogwarts Board of Governors were holding meetings in Hogsmeade and Gringotts respectively (the board had financial issues to discuss after all).

This meant that both Headmaster Black and his Deputy were out of the school at the moment. Headmaster Black had pushed for the I.C.W. to meet in Hogsmeade as he was both the current British representative and Headmaster of Hogwarts and the Deputy was taking his duties with the Hogwarts Board of Governors because of his prior commitments.

Added to that Harry had a personal reason for going now because come September the soon to be vacant post would be filled by Albus Dumbledore and that was a meeting that he wished to avoid at all costs.

He moved quickly, with his hood up, towards Honeydukes that was still, quite remarkably to him, a well to do sweet shop for the ravenous hordes of Hogwarts students. Given the fact that it was early evening the shop was closed and dark. Knowing that drawing his wand would draw undue attention he wrapped his ring hand around the simple lock that protected the store.

Given the fact that it was, for all intents and purposes, a simple sweet shop and that Voldemort had not yet made his bid for power and neither had Grindelwald there were no wards protecting the shop. This meant that all Harry had to worry about were late shoppers (for the shops open that late) and the occasional wizard coming and going from the Three Broomsticks.

With barely a thought (and a small but muted flash from his ring) the simple lock failed and Harry moved, as quietly as he could, inside and headed directly for the secret passageway. Once inside he disillusioned himself, added some silencing charms on his body and headed deep into Hogwarts.

Though it was well after curfew it did not stop the Hogwarts students of this day and age from trying to break it and it took him a lot more time than he would have liked to get to the Headmasters office and, once he was there, he had to deal with the Guardian Statue.

Unlike Honeydukes Hogwarts wards were still comprehensive and, at least at a low level, active. He knew that he had no chance of directly defeating the stone Guardian's security features, at least not without alerting the whole castle to his presence, and if they were activated then the stealth action that he required would go right out of the window.

For a moment he was stumped until, with a small half smile, he remembered Neville so many years ago and realised it did have one single easy weakness. It did after all require password and for the first time in his life he was thankful for his Jedi training in relation to his Magical problem.

A wizard might try and confound the statue and would no doubt set off the cleverly hidden ward's designed to detect such an action. They also might try to overpower the statue with magic but this was obviously very unsubtle, easily detectable and foolhardy and so it was not a route Harry could use.

Further, he had to admit in the deepest recesses of his mind, whoever had designed this scheme was brilliant. If he stood there too long without giving my password or gave too many incorrect answers it would also warn the teachers as well as contact the ministry and anyone else on an unknown approved list about his attempted entry.

Thankfully Jedi did not command the Force rather they worked in conjunction with it and, unlike the Sith or the magical community, did not force these powers on the material world on a relative whim.

So he began trying to use his magic much as a Jedi used the Force as he did not attack, nor command or try to subjugate. Instead he compressed his magic and made it small and inconsequential. After he had done that he simply used it to passively look at the ward that controlled the password element of the statue.

After a few minutes, with the ward slowly changing from green to red under his senses, he studied a string of letters that made up the password. It was almost as if the letters were before his eyes and like any good Curse Breaker or Jedi he studied the warp and weft of the passwords magic and he looked for any tell tale signs that one letter was meant to be part of the answer he was seeking.

With mere seconds left before the ward turned fully red and alerted someone to his presence, not to mention sweat running down his face, Harry almost cursed himself for being stupid as he realised what it was.

Really, thought Harry, as a Black not to mention The Black of Blacks it really could not be anything else.

"Toujour Pur" Harry said softly and thankfully the Stone Guardian moved aside nimbly and without setting off any wards or alarms.

Carrying his wand in his off hand Harry moved quickly up the stairs and opened the door while executing a perfect spin, magic blazing from both his wand and ring, as he moved inside.

His ring quickly confounded the Sorting Hat while his wand froze the portraits of former Headmasters before they could even see him.

The Arch at Beauxbatons had no mind (or at least it was not designed with one) so a confundus charm would not work on it at all. It _might_ develop one at a later date as magic was still much more an art rather than a science and intent played a key role. It really was impossible to tell if the Sorting Hat of Hogwarts was designed with or without a mind as no records from that far back still existed or, if they did, they were locked away in a private library somewhere and not made available to the public.

What can be said was that another famous artefact the Goblet of Fire was not designed with one but had begun to develop a primitive mind all of its own due to magic and so no one could really be certain wether the Hats mind was by design or was simply and evolution of magic.

That is where the similarities between the two ended however as, whether by design or not, the Sorting Hat of Hogwarts had a facsimile of a human mind and could even converse and sing where the Goblet could not.

This meant that the Hat was as vulnerable to charms that affected the human mind as a human would be especially as the creation of the Hat happened before the confundus charm was even invented. That was at least Harry's theory until now and later he would admit that he was only sixty per cent sure that the charm would work.

After all magic was tricky, in part, because intent was tricky. After all no two people thought exactly alike or in the same way so their intent, their will or mental images were not the same making magic unpredictable at its very core.

It also allowed for certain unintended complications and that meant that although everything that Harry thought and sensed about magic informed him that it should work he had still been worried that it wouldn't.

"Headmaster?" Asked the Hat "is there something amiss?".

Harry breathed an almost inaudible sigh of relief that the charm seemed to be working and that the portraits couldn't inform the Hat of his subterfuge.

"Hello Hat. I'm looking for something and I seem to have forgotten where I put it" said Harry.

"Is there anything that I can do to help you?" Asked the Sorting Hat.

"I don't mind if you do. Could you please tell me where I last put the Hogwarts Intake Book?" questioned Harry.

"I believe I last saw it in your top most left hand drawer in your desk" replied the Sorting Hat.

The Hogwarts Intake Book was a marvel of old magic, possibly on par with some of the works of Merlin himself, as it managed to record every first use of accidental magic by the children of the British Isles. It was created by Rowena Ravenclaw as one of her main contributions to the school. There were even rumours that she (as well as the other founders) had been tutored by Merlin himself and so it was hardly surprising that they were capable of such astounding feats of magic.

Thankfully there were only rudimentary wards on the door as, after all, It was considered a near impossibility that anyone would be mad enough to break into Hogwarts let alone into the Headmasters Office itself without detection. Added to that, in these pre-war times, it was considered ludicrous that anyone would want a book that records a child's accidental magic (generally around the age of five) except the educators of Hogwarts.

The book itself was sadly beyond Harry's ability to duplicate. Though he could have eventually copied the charms it was also heavily enchanted and that was not within Harry's skill set. It was not that Harry did not wish to learn enchanting as he did but, like a seer, you had to have a particular formation in your magic to master the gift and the few bits and pieces that he did know would not cover duplicating this masterwork.

Slowly and intensely, as if he had all the time in the world, Harry studied the blanket of spells that was around the book and that imbued it with its special abilities. He also knew that it was done with a very unique magical signature, that of Rowena Ravenclaw, and that even if he managed to make a copy somehow and leave one in its place it would only take a cursory examination to know that it had been tampered with.

So instead, similar to what he had done with the statue outside, he focused all of his thought analysing the very fibres of the spells that made it work seeking not to overcome them but to weave through them. At length, using that technique, he managed to slowly sneak a duplication charm between the complex matrix of other spells that formed and supported the book.

With a wave of his hand and envisioning one end of his spell like a root he sank the other end of the duplication charm into a blank diary that he had conjured with his ring. Then he cast a spell of permanence on the diary, that left him feeling almost exhausted due to its power consumption after his heavy use of magic to passively 'scan' his way up here and then coupled this with a simple illumination cantrip which would (when the diary was activated) enable Harry to know at almost the same time as the book when a new prospective magical had been found. Best of all the charms that he used were so simple and small (on the original book at least) that if he studied Rowena's masterwork even knowing what he was searching for he could see that it was only the width of a single hair at that end.

By custom and tradition The book was only read by the new Headmaster and the names passed on to the Deputy to deal with. Not only would this give Harry valuable time to continue his plans but, hopefully, when Dumbledore was headmaster he would assume that it was part of the books function if he ever noticed the small spell work at all. Given that it was highly unlikely that anyone would, at least before he returned to his own time and started using it, Harry felt that it was worth the small risk.

"Confundus. Obliviate. Confundus". Where Harry might be comfortable casting many spells silently he had rarely used Obliviate and had not felt comfortable trying to spell that way on a very old and powerful magical artefact. Most of the time that he had to do anything like this to anyone, which was rare in itself, he preferred using runes as, if a mind reader was to look carefully, they might notice the edges of the memory charm and realise something was up.

Runes had no such difficulty except that if you noticed the runes and could read them you could possibly break them.

After he had also memory charmed and confounded the shallow imitation of minds that rested within the paintings he reapplied is disillusionment preparing to leave. He figured that the disorientation from the Confundus Charm would allow him time to leave before anyone or anything realised he was ever there. He had after all replaced the memory of his visit with one of quiet contemplation as his targets waited for the Headmaster to return.

It was quite simple then to leave the way that he came with the diary in his pocket and, with the important visit done, he swiftly left both Hogwarts and the island of his birth alone. He was after all done with Britain for the moment.

When Harry returned home he knew that his struggle with the past was entering its final and yet, in some senses, the most difficult of stages.

Given that knowledge he began to layer the surface of his lightsabers with hundreds of microscopic runes that had many varied and useful purposes. He worked like a demented madman going over in his head any and all contingencies that he could think of as he did so and, when he thought of a new one, he would add another rune cluster to try and counteract it.

With the very last of the space on the hilts he added concealment runes and, before his eyes, all of the work he had done on them shimmered a deep emerald green and disappeared only to be replaced by an engraving of a snarling dragon for his matte black emerald weapon and a phoenix in flight for its silver sapphire twin.

"If I do say so myself the almost branded images look quite beautiful" Harry muttered to the empty room that he was in.

In his remaining 'downtime' he took a job with Gringotts as a Curse Breaker working mainly in Asia and though he did manage to get a qualification in potions at that time it was merely a passing grade as Snape had all but ruined the subject for Harry.

He managed to work four stints with Gringotts during this period alternating between doing that and entering cryostasis mainly to keep his skills sharp and so, when he finally awoke for good, he was not shocked by any sudden change in the nature of the time that he woke up in.

Still that was not all he did..

Wool's Orphanage 31st of December 1926

Standing in the corner of a small room and invisible to the naked eye Harry watched as a baby was cooing happily in his crib having just been fed and it's eyes, though closed at the moment, would no doubt soon sparkle with the innocence and hope of childhood however brief that hope may have been.

They also happened to be the eyes of a monster, Harry thought, and how I wish I could end your evil and sadistic life even now.

Regardless of the timeline Harry wanted nothing more in that moment then to gently reach out, perhaps caress the child's face in silent apology, and snap the neck of one of the greatest monsters in wizarding history.

This child, this innocent before Harry, was Tom Marvolo Riddle and every single fibre of his being wanted him dead and wanted it to happen now before he could hurt anyone _ever_.

Harry knew intellectually that he couldn't do this however and he had thought that, given that he had so much time to get used to the idea, though it would not be easy he could handle not acting. Instead he was almost blindsided by how hard it was and how simple it would be end the problem once and for all.

Still that was not why he was here.

From his pocket he removed and activated a recon droid that disappeared as swiftly as it came. It was now paired solely to the young Riddle throughout his life (as, until he was disembodied, though he had made many magical 'improvements' on himself it was still the same basic structure).

To facilitate keeping an eye on the future megalomaniac and to learn as much of his activities as possible he also embedded a tracer deep into the sleeping babies spine by way of the dart shooter in his bracer.

Now whatever Tom Riddle did he would be watched and all data collected would be sent to his ship under his home. He may not be able to kill Voldemort right now, thanks to the timeline, but Harry was damn sure that if it came to it a fight between himself and Riddle it would have to end quickly and the easiest way to do that was to gather as much information about the man as he could without his opponent knowing.

Soon after that he popped away still wishing that he could have ended the threat of Voldemort right there and then.

Godric's Hollow Halloween 1985

Harry was shocked by the state of the Wizarding World in this era. The fear and paranoia was palatable throughout Wizarding Britain as it was a time where a lifelong friend or family member could turn around, Imperius Curse or not, and try and kill you.

He had never seen people so despondent and suspicious. He had originally thought of simply going up to his parents and explaining his situation. He would have then figured out some way of saving them he was sure but, given the climate of the Wizarding world, it was not only unlikely to work but very difficult to do.

People, especially the Noble Houses like the Potter's, had placed every single protection that they could think of on their homes and were deeply distrustful of everyone they met no matter how trusted they once were. They were even distrustful of people they once had trusted but did not see on a daily basis.

Harry had also realised that going up to them was a bad idea as it was a kin to running down the street naked and screaming that he was the Messiah come back from Heaven. At best he would be placed in St Mungo's and treated like a lunatic.

At worst the Department of Mysteries, whose job it was to study unexplained events, would knowing his luck treat him like a lab experiment trying to figure out how he got where he was and how to replicate it.

All of which if he survived, which was by no means certain, would at the very least delay him and stop him from helping his parents.

Harry had such a negative attitude on it mainly because, as far as he was aware, he hadn't actively tried to change the course of events before and, if the Infinite Empire was right, in doing so he would not be simply combating possible ancestors of the Malfoys but fighting the will of time itself.

So, with the idea of meeting them before they left to go into hiding fraught with peril, he found himself on the night of their deaths moving around Godric's Hollow.

Given the events that had once transpired this night Harry was once again invisible but he had a problem as no one had ever told him nor was it ever written that children were unaffected by the Fidelius Charm. This was readily apparent as Harry roughly knew where the house was but he couldn't see it.

This presented a very large problem because adult Harry was as affected by the charm as anyone else who did not know the secret and that led him to wander around aimlessly, rather than the surgical strike he was hoping for, hoping against hope that he would be able to find his parent's cottage.

He originally had come up with the idea to use dead transfigured pigs in the place of his parents bodies and he had the carcasses shrunk and in stasis in his pockets at this present moment but, as time continued it's march onward, he was unsure if he would be able to do it.

After all, he had reasoned, just because my parents have to die to create the timeline I'm from it doesn't mean they _actually_ have to die just appear dead. That was the theory anyway, now he was coming to the conclusion that if there was a will of time it was it set against him in his endeavour.

He still didn't leave though as even if he failed then at least his parents would not have to die alone.

He heard a scream. It was a man's voice and sounded like Harry's own and, he reasoned, it could only be his father's voice. He began to run knowing that he would already be too late for his father but also realising that the secret might be weaker given that one of the three that it concerned would be dead.

When he arrived correct that the secret had weakened and, as if it was a self fulfilling prophecy, he found his father dead.

Stepping into his burning childhood home and over his late father's body was a surreal experience to say the least. As he moved towards the stairs he saw a flash of green light followed by high pitched animalistic scream.

He found what he expected to see... no body of Voldemort, just robes and a wand, and his mother's corpse. It seemed that the will of time was not to be denied as he had failed on both counts when it came to his parents.

He knew the others would be coming in moments to the burning house, if not followers of the Dark Lord then everyone else in the village who would be attracted by the comotion (not to mention the house that appeared from nowhever now the adult Potters were dead). Still he reached down and stroked his mother's face offering a silent apology that he was not there in time.

In that moment he almost saw all the days that would never be his. He saw a lifetime of love from his parents and how proud they would have been of him at the most important moments of his life. He knew that they would have been proud of him graduating Hogwarts, his marriage to his wife, his first child and beyond. All the important moments of his life that they could have witnessed and now would not have a chance to.

All stolen from him by a twisted and demented dark child who was left unloved in an orphanage so long ago.

Before he could leave another figure entered the room and Harry instantly recognised him as a younger version of Severus Snape.

"He was supposed to spare _you_ " Wailed Snape with tears running down his face even as he clutched possessively at Harry's mother's dead body. "I told him that it was your son! The prophecy was about your son and he promised to spare you my love".

Harry was shocked by the idea of a prophecy about him but was, at this moment, once again struggling not to murder the selfish bastard right where he stood. No mention had been made of Harry's father as it seems Snape was perfectly fine with James Potter dying.

This was all Snapes fault, he thought, all of it, as without pointing and arrow at my family and I as a valid target my parents would still be alive. Someday soon, he promised himself, Snape would die horribly and Dumbledore would too for protecting the murdering self-centered wanker.

The Day of Luna's Mother's Death

A despondent Harry had returned and spoken quietly to the Goblin Nation. They were very interested in the idea of him being part of a prophecy, having their own seers as well, and had requested through the Goblin Liaison Office a copy of the orb.

Thanks to pureblood bigotry this was by no means as dangerous as it sounded for the timeline. They had included the request with over a thousand other small and innocuous inquiries and Harry was assured that the people receiving them not only hated their jobs but were given it as a punishment.

This meant that after viewing the first few pages of their requests the wizard in charge of allowing it neatly shrugged and rubber stamped it through, apparently for their own amusement, in other requests they often included ridiculous jokes and limericks to see if anyone was paying attention to what they were asking for.

They were not of course as all the things the Goblins actually wanted, like wands, were already banned by other treaties and they were magically prohibited from even asking for them. In return they got sole control of the wizarding banking system.

This, in some ways for Harry, was the hardest death of the lot. All he knew about Pandora's death was that she died sometime during luna's ninth year. He also had a sneaking suspicion that the more he planned trying to help her the more chances time would have to find a way of stopping it from happening.

Still he remembered how kind Luna had been to him.

He may have changed a great deal but, even at fifteen, he had known that the majority of his life was watched by Dumbledore by this point (though at the time he had assumed it was for his protection) and like most teenagers he had chafed at the boundaries that it imposed on his life. Then he had, quite by accident, started to open up to Luna after the first meeting of the D.A. and he found it refreshing to have something (even just a simple friendship) that was not watched or dictated by others.

For her part Luna was very happy to simply have a friend. They were both lonely people and, at first, they had forged a kinship over that. Of course Harry had Ron and Hermione but Ron was from a large family and was seemingly only interested in getting Harry to play quidditch or chess most of the time and Hermione was equally as comfortable with books as people if not more so.

Luna, on the other hand, did not want Harry to do anything and, unlike Hermione, was not always pressuring him to keep his education in mind. It wasn't that Harry didn't appreciate what she did but rather that, with everything that happened to him, he needed to unwind, and Luna's gentle presence after the D.A. allowed him to do that.

She seemed happy just being with him and talking about everything or nothing. For his part Harry listened attentively when she spoke about her life and the fanciful creatures that she was looking for or saw. Harry wasn't sure if they were real but, for his friend, he gave her his undivided attention and at the very least suspended his disbelief when they spoke.

Their meetings had grown from there and fairly soon they had been seeing each other for simple companionship every other day after curfew as well as after the D.A. and, though at first their friendship may have been secret due to a small act of teenage rebellion, Harry and Luna both found over the months that they kept it that way because they cherished it and didn't want to share.

By unspoken agreement they did not talk about certain sensitive subjects, such as Harry's home life, and details about Luna's mothers death or her bullying by other members of Ravenclaw. Before the year was through however they both knew that they were each others most important person and best friend and that the other was there if they needed them and the wounds of those things began to ever so slowly close.

Now Harry wanted to do more than that.

So, starting at Luna's ninth birthday, Harry had begun a silent watch over the family and one of the few things, but the most important to his mind, that he learnt as he watched and waited was how kind and sweet Pandora Lovegood actually was. He knew from the few conversations that he and Luna had had over the years (especially after D.A. lessons) that she was not only a excellent spellcrafter but also wonderful mother.

Spellcrafting, like trying to learn spells without instruction of any sort, was very dangerous. However where haphazardous self learning was unlikely (though it was not unheard of) to kill you spellcrafting blurred the line between wild and core magic and was therefore a lot more dangerous though it was very lucrative.

That was the extent of Harry's knowledge on the subject as he simply did not want to know more and, like most advanced magics, it was a very specialised field that took a long time to learn.

Still his plan was simple. All he really needed to do was change a single moment and that was when Pandora's spell would backfire and cause her to slowly bleed to death. If he could move her out of the way as she cast it then she would be fine and given that he would be changing only a single moment he thought he might be able to get away with it.

The fact that this was a defining moment of Luna's life, that it could possibly change fundamentally who she was, was immaterial to him at the moment as he knew that she would be happier with her mother in her life and if he could make her happy while preserving his personal timeline as much as possible he would do so.

In the end all he really wanted for her was to be happy.

However standing in her work room invisible watching her try her new spell he knew this was not to be. Even as she began to cast he shouted at her to try and draw her away and for half a second he thought it had worked as she turned towards the noise in the corner that his voice had created.

The cut from the back firing spell was still made and she still felt into a heap bleeding from her throat. Her hand reflexively went up to stop the bleeding but, from a lifetime on battlefields, Harry knew that it was already too late and the odd mix of wild and spell magic would mean magical healing wouldn't work.

A young and innocent looking Luna came running in with tears streaming down her face. The shock and pain that he witnessed on her face seared into his very soul. For half a second she stood stock still staring at her mother before she ran off to try and find her father and get some help.

Pandora meanwhile, who had lost the ability to speak due to simply trying to stay alive, was slowly dying and Harry took the opportunity to take down his invisibility and hold her hand.

"Time travel" Harry began softly "it really is a bitch".

As Pandora began to try and speak Harry shushed her with a simple shake of his head. "I tried to stop you... I really did...Luna will be fine I promise you. Her father and I will look after her for the rest of her days. I'm just sorry that I couldn't do more".

With a final squeeze of her hand he had quickly reapplied his disillusionment and waited with a newly returned (and oblivious to his presence) Luna who cried for hours from seeing her final moments and both were there until help came... long after her mother's body was cold.

He didn't know if Pandora could even understand his words by the point that he had spoken to her but he hoped that he had given her some peace in the end.

He vowed there and then that, regardless of the will of time, no one else would die for him all the timeline if he could help it and he could think of at least one more death that he might be able to change.

In theory the closer to the time he left the easier it would be to change and the next death that he could change he would.

He would make sure of it.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20: The Past and The Future Begin to Meet

15th of June 2000

 _A/N I have been very very ill of late and so this cchapter is shorter than I intended. Rest assured however that the next update will be longer :)_

Harry sat in a Gringotts meeting room, now the Boy-Who-Lived once again, a hero, a pariah and a war torn man stuck in the body of a fifteen year old boy. He had spent much of his time sleeping throughout the century, with the occasional year or two working for Gringotts as a Curse Breaker.

It all started now, he thought, in three days the battle at the Department of Mysteries would happen and, finally, his timeline would catch up with itself. I wonder what those who would use me or take advantage of me would think if they knew the full truth. Hell if they knew even a tenth of it they would either call him a Dark Lord or something else equally condemning.

Some might, as they did with Nicolas Flamel, call him a legend.

The goblin in the corner nearly did, his face showed a mixture of awed reverence and fear, but that was hardly surprising given both his now astounding wealth and his very long life.

Harry was sitting around a small table facing two others and at first glance they were old but quite unremarkable for all that. If someone looked closer they would find that the man's face was hawk like, his nose was far too large to have ever been beautiful and his eyes were almost ageless pits of blue that seem to be aware of almost everything around him.

The woman, on the other hand, was breathtakingly beautiful. Her hair was like delicate spun gold and seemed to catch and somehow enhance the light, her eyes were brown and seemed to radiate warmth, and her entire being paradoxically to the man seemed to radiate caring. Her lined face was framed by a smiling mouth and they seem to be more lines around the corners almost as if she had spent a long time smiling.

"When the Nation asked, just after your first year, for us to give you a DNA sample we were more than a little skeptical. That was until you and the Goblin Nation gave contracted oaths that you would possibly save our lives and use it for nothing other than that purpose". The man paused even as his face spasmed in a moment of unbearable pain. " Our final supply is running low Mr Potter and we only have days left at best before the elixir that saved us will run out and we will die. Rationing it is no longer helping matters so please tell me... have you succeeded or are we to face oblivion?"

"Before I answer your question Nicolas" said Harry "answer one of mine. When you made your Stone, all those years ago, did you understand the price of its creation?" As Harry continued to speak his voice had become colder until, at the very end, it was as frostly as the Arctic and just as merciless.

Unbeknownst to them Harry had chosen this meeting room because, thanks to certain enchantments present in the room, it was impossible for them to outright lie. With time and knowledge they might be able to dissemble but a true falsehood was impossible.

"No" Said Perenelle her soft voice speaking for the first time. "It is our greatest regret that we did not understand the price of such a things creation. If we had known what the balance of magic would require we never would have done it. I can offer no defence except to say that we were young and stupid. None of this however changes the fact that rationing the Elixir is causing us great pain and slowly stretching out our deaths. So Harry Potter, child of death and war, can you help us?".

Harry sighed and gave the two and open and honest, as well as deeply frank, look.

"Given the fact that the creation of your Stone inadvertently cost just over six hundred people their lives I suppose the question really is... should I help you?".

Harry shook his head and thought about all of the mistakes and bad things that he ended up doing in his life and realised that although he was the most qualified person to judge their decisions he simply couldn't do so. "Yes I will help you, at least to a degree, assuming that you don't want an immortal life once again".

"After all this time" responded Nicolas Flamel " we have come to the conclusion that immortality carries to high a price. Even if you could discount all of the people that died in the creation of the Philosopher's Stone it is still too much to see everyone you love die. If we can be saved for a few years and enjoy a true old age rather than one that is a by-product of the Elixir of Life failing that would do very nicely I think".

Harry smiled, an easy and almost carefree thing, and his eyes twinkled with suppressed mischief as he took a moment to formulate his reply.

"Of course I will help you" Harry said while nodding at the goblin who scampered off and swiftly returned with three others carrying two large tubes (around six feet tall) covered in a simple dark sheet. "Although I think that we can do better than simple old age. I hope you are happy with this result as I used up the last of my ships backup power doing this. Now it will barely return home and then, most likely, have to be rebuilt from the ground up as it was never meant to run on such low energy levels".

With that Harry stood up and, with a great flourish, pulled off the sheet and revealed two frozen and sleeping bodies in cryotubes that had a small power source attached along with a one time use transfer device. The energy was almost completely depleted from the battery that powered the two as it glowed up a full dull red and, if it did fail, the bodies would swiftly die. Unless of course they were occupied first.

"And what" asked Nicholas Flamel skeptically "is the price for our salvation? Why if you could do this did you not come to us earlier than you did?" The man's voice was cracked and harsh clearly assuming that Harry wanted the secrets of the Stone, despite everything that he had inferred to the contrary, and just as clearly ready to die in agony to refuse him.

When they had created the Stone, at the start of their immortal journey, a great wave of magic had left their protected lab and had grabbed the life force or many nearby people. It had then torn it loose from their bodies and forced it back into the stone both killing them and empowering the device.

It was the pairs greatest regret that they had not realised that this might happen, falsely assuming in their rush to prove that the alchemical dream could be realised, that the power would be taken from the minor ley line below their lab rather than the people living near them. It had turned two joyous and headstrong researchers into careful, very methodical and humble immortals.

"My price is a very simple one" replied Harry " I will tell you a story, my story, and then I will make you an offer. You are of course free to refuse and the bodies there would still be yours". Harry then quickly held up a hand forestalling the objection that he could see coming "it has nothing to do with your Stone, I _never_ would have interest in it, but hopefully is simply an offer that should intrigue you instead".

He talked for quite some time but, at length and having heard his story they readily and even enthusiastically, agreed to his terms. It helped of course that he readily admitted to the enchantments in the room and, after some simple testing, they came to the conclusion that not only was he not lying but the Goblin Nation had proof of his claims.

Then Harry left, excusing himself as he had another meeting that he had to get to. As soon as he did the former immortals wasted no time in changing their dying bodies for the new 'fresh' ones. They were happy that they were biologically eighteen again and, more than that, that it would be the last time they would ever be so.

In Harry's ship one final body remained, on life support, empty and waiting to be used.

Harry, or those working for him, had managed to create quite a network of influential people that had over the years helped him in his plans so it was quite easy to arrange the next meeting. Ordinarily it wouldn't be so but sometimes being extremely wealthy and long-lived had its advantages. So after a tense meeting with the Queen, that nonetheless proved more than fruitful, Harry was once again in Gringotts staring at the Prophecy Orb in front of him.

He had known about it for a long time of course, since before he left through the Veil, but he had avoided learning the actual wording like the plague.

The very idea of Prophecy unnerved him, especially now, as from his training as a Jedi he knew that often once you have seen the future (or at least a prediction of it at any rate) you were often chained by it and could cause the very future that you were trying to prevent to happen.

Added to that, thought Harry, magical Seeing was so imprecise often showing merely fragments or compressed into imprecise rhymes.

Still, having just heard what the Prophecy actually said, he was aware that this was not the prevailing opinion amongst wizards and witches of this time. He cursed his luck that the two most powerful people in Britain (aside from himself) believed in it wholeheartedly. He realised that this was most likely why Dumbledore seemed to want to control him and Voldemort wanted to kill him quickly and utterly. Their hubris would allow for no other course of action.

Fan-bloody-tastic, thought Harry, either way I'm fucked and will most likely end up dead if they have their way.

This was, of course, if Harry decided to play by their rules and he had no intention of doing so. He had come to the conclusion that, time travel was one of the ultimate cheats in life and that, if the rules did not agree with you, you should cheat six ways to sunday with everything that you had. That didn't mean that he hadn't planned other ways of cheating and, given its massive problems, his plans were not actually relying on that but other ways to stack the deck.

He had set about cheating with impunity, as he had tried to do ever since he had gone through the Veil in the first place and found the Infinite Empires technology, to not only be able to survive but thrive in a universe that had seemingly stacked itself against him.

Albus Dumbledore sat in his office that evening indulging in a rare tipple of Firewhiskey while reviewing his plans in his mind even as the liquid burned his aged throat in a very pleasant fashion.

How had Gellert got it so wrong, he wondered, so long ago?

Albus was not blind to the flaws in their society and had, years ago, agreed with his charismatic friend turned lover that their world needed to change. In fact the reason that Grindelwald was not dead was less to do with any sentiment left, though in all honesty that was part of it, and more to do with showing his old friend that Albus was _right_.

Maybe then, he mused, he could be redeemed.

There were certain alchemical potions that could restore youth after all. Although they were nowhere near as powerful as the Magnum Opus that was the Philosopher's Stone itself they did work very well and the fact that the potions were banned was a problem for lesser men as far as he was concerned. He was also dismissive of the fact that three people would have to die for each dose as he viewed it as a necessary sacrifice for the Greater Good.

Alchemy needed a lot of work, for initially little reward, but unlike the Necromancy that Voldemort employed it was about maintaining the optimum human body rather than improving it beyond natural limits. As Voldemort had pursued enhancing his power beyond almost anything else and wanted his immortality as soon as possible (not to mention assured) combined with the fact that the study of Alchemy required not a small amount of wealth that Voldemort had initially lacked Tom Riddle had dismissed Alchemy as a fool's errand.

That, to Dumbledore, both highlighted Voldemort's stupidity and was another reason why he could not be allowed to live in Dumbledore's planned new world.

He imagined a better world, an intelligent oligarchy, an enlightened genius elite that had as little to do with the muggles as possible. His plan, simply put, was to lead his kind into a new Golden Age. It was his hope that it would make all other civilizations like it (including Atlantis and to a lesser degree Camelot as that had had muggles in it) rudimentary by comparison.

But to realise his dream he knew that certain impediments had to be removed and chief among those was the Dark Lord Voldemort. Tom was too steeped in the Dark Arts (not to mention far too narrow minded which set him apart from Gellert) to ever be of use as far as Dumbledore's vision for society was concerned.

Then there was the Prophecy. He knew that people had dismissed him as an old man well past his prime and so, to show that he should lead, during Voldemort's first right he had led the opposition to the madman's schemes. He had been offered the Minister of Magic job more than once (especially after Voldemort's apparent death) but that was too small and too reliant upon the whims of the law for his plans.

He had learnt very well from Gellert that he simply couldn't take power from others as they would rebel and fight back. In all fairness Albus had tried to garner some support after the defeat of Gellert Grindelwald and it did help his image that almost everyone believed that he had killed the former Dark Lord.

In the main however they were too weary of war to even begin to contemplate the idea that if they didn't follow his enlightened leadership then all would lead to ruin. It didn't help that, at the time, the Wizengamot was led by the Ancient and Noble houses of Potter and Longbottom with a history and ancestry that stretched much further back than Dumbledore's own Minor House.

When he had broached the idea to them they had had the gall to laugh at the most basic of his ideas, he remembered, but then some like Charlus Potter and Hephaestus Longbottom were simply far too blind to see the truth before them.

His plan was much more convoluted and required the _people_ to put him in power rather than the government or for him to place himself there. He had worked tirelessly towards that goal and it was the most infuriating moment of his life when he realised that all of that, all of it, had been hijacked by Fate.

Still, if he prided himself on one thing, it was his adaptability. He had not dealt with Voldemort before, not truly, because he was waiting for the populace to be so disheartened that they would _beg_ for him to take charge and when the Prophecy had been spoken that option had been stolen from him.

Still, as previously stated, he was nothing if not adaptable. With a few borderline illegal charms on the major players involved, or possibly involved, in the whole mess, as well as shamelessly using his reputation he had taken control of the situation to further his own ends.

It was notable that while he used charms on the Potters, Longbottoms and Sirius Black he had not used them on either Peter Pettigrew or Severus Snape. Their greed and hatred respectively were all natural and all the easier to manipulate because of that.

He felt no pangs in his conscience because of this as, after all in his mind, sacrifices must be made for the Greater Good.

Once Voldemort had chosen his target Albus had acted with even more esoteric spells and potions. Once the inevitable had happened he had then taken control of the young Harry Potter very easily and for the good of all.

It had almost been laughably easy, he remembered, as he had neatly through his agent Severus Snape managed to neutralize the Longbottom family as all it took was a few well chosen words in the wrong ears to have Frank and Alice attacked. This neatly kept the remaining family members looking inward rather than questioning the fate of the 'safe' Harry Potter. The fact that he should have been placed with them was easy to miss in their new and raw grief.

He had needed to do nothing about the fate of Sirius Black as the Wizarding World had done that for him. He had always known about the switch of secret keepers but had kept it to himself and the most he had done was delay the trial of Sirius until everyone forgot about it and had not pushed for another.

Clearly, he thought, this was just further proof that the Wizarding world needed a firm hand and no hand would be better than his own. When the Prophecy was complete and Harry was dead along with the Voldemort he would be hailed as the mentor of the greatest hero of at least the last fifty years.

That was not to say that he hadn't taken precautions. After all if Harry was meant to be the mirror of Voldemort he would help it along, as long as he remained in control of course, and had begun by leaving Harry with the Dursleys against his parents specific instructions. They had happily and even eagerly treated him as Dumbledore had instructed in return for some money from the Potter Vaults.

Despite what the naive Harry Potter may have thought his home life was carefully watched and not only to keep the muggle authorities away. It was a delicate balancing act, he knew, between crafting a useful weapon and creating a psychopath and to that end he had limited Harry's powers until he was finally ready to face and die with Voldemort.

His plan had worked very well, he thought, and Harry now viewed him as a surrogate grandfather and trusted him implicitly. He was also easily kept ignorant of his true heritage and Dumbledore doubted that he even knew what a Ancient and Noble House was let alone that he belonged to one.

More than that, taking advantage of a school law that had not been used since 1805, he had enacted a legal clause in his guardianship of Harry (it was written specifically due to the Napoleonic Wars but had never been removed from the law books) to transfer the legal ownership of the Potter assets to him if Harry were to die before taking his N.E.W.T's.

He had even earmarked Potter Manor in Wales to be his new official residence when he finally took power. He deeply enjoyed the idea of the sudden and meteoric rise of the Minor House of Dumbledore to Ancient and Noble rank.

To that end he had orchestrated, or at least taken advantage of and improved, Voldemort's plan to get the Prophecy and he fully intended that once Fudge had seen Voldemort that he and Harry would kill each other with Dumbledore's assistance. Sadly that hadn't worked out so well as Harry Potter seemed to have an uncommon amount of luck.

As a backup plan assuming Fudge did not see Voldemort until too late or somehow Harry escaped his fate Dumbledore had several other ideas. He was aware of the Horcruxes that Voldemort had made for example, though not their precise location, and he knew spells to contain the spirit of Voldemort in the confusion of Harry's demise until he was able to destroy him.

The only problem that he had was that as long as he was uncertain where they actually were he could not finish Voldemort. He was confident however that certain torture spells that acted on spirits would get him the information eventually. It was, after all, the main reason why Peeves was so afraid of him.

Until then, he thought, I will enjoy extracting as much information as I can from his shade. After all we have both spent time studying different magic and there was always something to learn even from my worst enemies.

His plan was progressing nicely and soon, as far as he was concerned, he would take charge and begin his lifelong plans to better his kinds lot in earnest.

Harry on the other hand knew exactly where they were thanks to the tracker that he had placed in the baby Tom Riddle.

As it turned out the Cup was the only one that Tom Riddle hadn't placed personally but, as Bellatrix had placed it in Gringotts, that was actually the easiest to remove. It was gone and replaced within hours of it being deposited by a fake and best of all the Goblin Nation had not asked for anything in return as they had their own history with the vile things and hated them with a passion.

Ordinarily they still would not have bothered, considering it yet another example of Wizarding hubris and stupidity, but due to Harry's close working relationship with them they felt honour bound to take steps.

It was currently sitting in a small Vault waiting to be destroyed but it was not alone.

Voldemort may have thought that he was a true prodigy of magic, in absolute fairness in some cases he was, but his knowledge of Blood Magic was rudimentary at best. It was this lack of knowledge after all that allowed Lily Potter to develop a ritual to protect her son and further enabled Harry to gain access to the cave where the locket was stored.

He had done so in such a way that the basic protections believed he was Voldemort and though when he went to retrieve the locket, the same year that his parents had died, he had found that it was a fake he was not disheartened.

He knew that thanks to a little sympathetic magic and the other Horcruxes he should be able to find the locket fairly easily. Although he hadn't been able to retrieve it yet he did know exactly where the locket was. A fundamental rule of magic was, after all, that like called to like and this was especially true of soul pieces as they naturally wanted to recombine into a unified whole.

As he was sure that Voldemort was not aware of this he had simply used a system of summoning charms and fiendfyre to destroy the Inferi that were in the lake. He had then shattered the bowl and transfigured a block of wood into the facsimile of the now destroyed object. He had used a small pebble in a runic masking spell so that, unless Voldemort summoned them, he would be unaware that his zombies had been taken care of. Then he threw it into the lake.

When he had picked up the locket it had joined the other one in the Vault if only for safekeeping.

He couldn't just destroy the Horcruxes however as even he was uncertain if Voldemort could sense it, after all no one other than the Dark Lord ever made a great study of the vile things as far as he was aware, and no documentation of multiple Horcruxes existed before Voldemort.

As his final act in the cave he had added a potion based stunner in place of the liquid that was there before and engraved a minor compulsion ruin on the base of the bowl. With any luck, if Voldemort sent someone to retrieve the locket, they would simply starve to death as the entrance closed behind them.

The ring he hadn't even bothered with as, instead of trying to retrieve it, he had thrown in several explosives that would at the touch of a button completely annihilate the entire property.

The Diary He had left alone wary of the timeline and aware that it would be destroyed in due course.

All of which had led him to the Shrieking Shack and to Hogwarts. Because of Dumbledore's presence as the fact that there were currently two Harry Potter's either in or around Hogwarts it was not safe for him to enter but, luckily, he had a plan.

"Dobby" Harry called softly.

With a crack Dobby appeared. The short House Elf was almost shaking with excitement at being called by the Great Harry Potter Sir.

"Dobby be so grateful to be called" Dobby paused eyeing Harry critically even as Harry remembered that house elves were much more in tune with their magic than wizards. "You's be Harry Potter but... you are not the Harry Potter that I knows".

Harry raised an eyebrow even as he internally berated himself as he felt he really shouldn't have discounted the perceptiveness of house elves or underestimate them like other wizards. After all it was not just their own magic that they were more connected to but that of the Earth and therefore it stood to reason that they were much more sensitive to time.

From everything that he had read, before it been banned by certain small minded Purebloods, house elves had an advantage in that as they could use it to more easily serve their Masters needs and it was what allowed them to pop through wards as if they didn't exist. More than that the only reason, in theory, that house elves needed wizards at all was to 'top them off' as it were as there was the barest mention of some unknown cataclysm in the house elves history that had damaged their connection.

The actual cataclysm was unknown and all sources agreed on only one thing. The house elves would never talk about it even if ordered to do so and, wizards being what they were, had forgotten if they were ever told what it actually was.

"I am a time traveler" Harry said simply and Dobby's tennis ball like eyes widened in shock as he seemed to sense that it was a lot more than the hour that wizards normally would only be able to travel back in time.

"Harry Potter is the greatest wizard ever" stated Dobby firmly. "What does the Great Harry Potter need from Dobby?"

"I need to find something that Vol…" seeing Dobby begin to squeak at the hated name he changed his wording for his diminutive friend. "You-Know-Who would have hidden somewhere on the seventh floor in Hogwarts. "It could even be in the Room of Requirement but I can't go back into Hogwarts at the moment".

"Dobby will find" and before Harry could stop him that hyperactive little bugger was off like a shot.

He quickly returned with a diadem floating in mid air above him and Harry quickly slapped a one-way goblin portkey on it before the sibilant whispers could even start to affect his mind. It was gone safely less than a moment later.

"Thank you my friend" Harry said sincerely "is there anything I can do for you?"

"Dobby wants to be Harry Potter's elf sir" Dobby replied after thinking for a moment and speaking with a soft intensity that Harry had never heard from the little creature before.

"Before I answer" Harry said " what would happen to an elf if it was unable to receive the Earth's magic?"

"They be dead painfully in minutes Harry Potter sir" was Dobby's sad reply. Harry wouldn't have been surprised if his friend had sensed that this was not the answer Harry needed.

"Then you can't I'm afraid Dobby" Harry replied with deep sorrow in his voice " I intend to spend a lot of time off planet in the future. In fact, if everything goes perfectly, I will never come back here except for the occasional visit".

At those words Dobby's entire body seemed to deflate almost as if all of his nervous energy had just dribbled right out of him. That was until Harry's mind clicked with an idea of how to fix a persistent problem to his plans that had remained in the back of his mind for a very long time.

Thankfully he had, as of one hour ago, reactivated the most basic of communications on the ship as he now no longer had to use other cryostasis tubes and so he knew a way of Dobby joining him although he was uncertain if it was the right idea. " Dobby there may be a way of you joining me... but I'm warning you it comes with a very steep cost and you would have to understand my story first".

Harry then proceeded to give the elf, who was rapt with attention, a basic rundown of his life story even as Dobby began to gasp in the appropriate places and his eyes became wider than Harry had ever seen them before.

"How's can Dobby be joining the Great Harry Potter sir?" He finally asked and Harry had to give him points for single mindedness at least given all that he had just told him.

"Dobby... many elves are abused aren't they?" Harry finally asked and at the question Dobby's eyes dropped and he nodded his head sadly. The poor elf was ashamed not only of it happening but also of the subject matter as this was not something they ever normally discussed with outsiders. "I am afraid that my actions, that the things that I am about to do, will put more pressure on the elves and even more will end up abused than ever before".

Harry then hesitated and it was almost as if the entire world paused with his breath but, as quickly as the moment came, it passed.

Though what he was about to ask was the only way that he could think of possibly saving the elves it still amounted to willfully, utterly and irrevocably changing the course of their future evolution and he was uncertain if it was the right thing to do. Thankfully for Harry's morals he had a representative of the race in question to help soothe his prickling conscience.

"I may have a way to stop all of that" Harry said. "it would stop the elves ever being abused again but it will mean that they will have to change and... they can never change back".

"Hows?" Dobby asked and Harry privately thought that he had never seen such a serious look on the little elf's face before not even when he was trying to save Harry's life in his second year. Under other circumstances such a look of concentration would be highly funny but there was nothing funny about this situation.

"I have access to... machines Dobby... those same machines have been working on a way to help the elves for a very long time. Using information that they have sent and a ritual that the goblin nation are setting up even now I can free you of your dependency on the Earth's magic".

"But without that we would all die!" Dobby half screeched and half wild with great pearly tears in his eyes until, after a time, Harry stopped him.

"Not if I replace it with something else" was Harry's reluctant reply.

He then went on to explain his plan and how, if Dobby agreed, Dobby himself would become the carrier for a magically charged virus that would infect every elf that Dobby came across. There it would remain dormant until the early hours of the twenty fifth at which time it would activate. He held nothing back from his little friend even including the idea of asking him not to tell the other elves how it would be done including the fact that, once it was passed to them, they in turn would become carriers of the virus just as Dobby was.

"Simply tell them, if they ask, that a time of great change is coming and that after it is done if they wish to leave their Masters they should travel to a place called Bluestone in France or contact the Goblin Nation asking for Roland Vauquelin. It is vitally important to tell them that they will no longer have to be punished at someone else's whim and that, if they want a place of new possibilities where they can live and choose what they want to do without the fear of bad masters they should do so as quickly as possible. You should also tell them that there will be plenty of work for them and that they have Harry Potter's word on that".

"Although" he continued changing the subject slightly " I do think that, between you and me, there will be some radical physical changes as well. If everything goes to the simulation I believe your people will still be able to 'pop' at the very least... call it a memory...an echo... of what you were".

Dobby was silent in his deep contemplation. In fact he was silent so long that Harry believed he was going to refuse and if he did Harry couldn't find it in his heart to be sad about it as he really was putting Dobby in a very unfair and tough spot.

That being said he can almost see in his mind's eye the thousands of elves that would suffer horribly at the hands of so called 'pillars of society' if he did refuse once Harry had finished what he was going to do.

Still, Harry reflectively thought, this is not my species and it is not my choice.

"Dobby will do" the little elf stated faintly even as Harry released a breath that he hadn't realised he had been holding.

"Thank you Dobby….you may have just saved a lot of lives" stated Harry "Let's go to Gringotts now my friend as we have no time to lose". Harry was immensely grateful at the trust he was being shown and more than thankful that a remedy had been found using simulated Earth components and more than just a little bit of magic and the Force.

After all, if not for magic, the virus would be just that and that would mean that, aside from other things, each elf would have to be infected one by one which would make for a long and tedious process. With magic the spread and the replication of the changes were not even a tiny problem.

As for the Force component Harry was using his own freely given blood and, although usually that would be a very stupid idea, he felt that the amount of trust he was being shown by his friend had to be met with an equal amount of trust on his part.

Harry knew that it was now time to give the house eves (those in the U.K. anyway) the ability to choose their own futures and the lesser gift of the Force while he did so. Soon they both 'popped' hand in hand to Gringotts into the Ritual Chamber and the admittedly uncertain future that awaited them.

After Dobby had undergone the ritual a few hours later he was off beginning to pop around the United Kingdom spreading both Harry's message and the virus to every elf that he came across and, more than that, did it all with a light heart sure in the knowledge that Harry Potter was doing the right thing.

If only, thought Harry, I was so sure.

Now, with only one day left before the timeline synced up again, he found himself at Bluestone and walking into his hidden ship.

"Nic?" Harry called "Are you in there?"

"Harry! We're in the back" called the famous Alchemist.

As Harry moved through to the back of the ship he was pleased to see that it was mostly restored to its pre-retrofit standard as he had begun to dismantle most of the software for dealing with time travel probabilities. Although power was now at such a premium that when it did leave it would only be a one way trip, all of the spaces on board had been opened up.

They had been filled with boxes upon boxes of Magical fauna and biological samples of animals under stasis charms. He had also filled one room to bursting with magical books that would be transferred to datapads and become part of the new Magical Archive that Nicholas would create (along with one for the Force and another for both of the Earth's and Galactic history) when he and his wife moved to Spero.

Nicholas and his wife had used their many contacts to expedite the acquisition of many items and were currently storing them in the ship. They were both excited to be travelling in space and see a new world. In return Nicholas would organise and then run (in a part-time capacity) his new Archives as well as becoming his lead researcher on practical applications of Magic, technology and the Force.

Harry had different plans for Pernelle although in the short term she would help her husband with his new work and both would hopefully enjoy their new life to the fullest as they were both more than eager for a brand new challenge and were scholars at heart.

"All set?" Harry asked.

"Yes. You leave tomorrow evening with GE3. The _Homeward Bound_ and 4 others of the same design should be here about between six and eight days after that". Nicholas paused and looked at Harry gravely before continuing "Are you sure this is what you want to do? You could do such good here and possibly even save the Wizarding World from itself".

"That is all based on one faulty assumption Nic" said Harry after thinking about his new friends words for a moment.

"Oh? What is that?" The Alchemist replied truly interested in Harry's thoughts on the matter.

"The assumption that they deserve to be saved" Harry's face clouded with mixed emotions at that thought and Nicholas was, quite wisely, silent as he let his friend process all the thoughts that were going through his brain.

For the next few hours the three worked tirelessly to finish storing all that was to be taken to Spero before Harry abruptly stopped having noticed that the time was nearing midnight with a simple and quick tempus spell.

"If you would excuse me you know that I have somewhere that I must be" said Harry quietly even as he picked up a bulky helmet like apparatus. He hoped that the helmet did the job and, it should do, as it was cobbled together by GE3 from the remnants of his information chair and he also took a small recon drone that had been altered for a very specific purpose.

A move towards the sheet covered figure that was still on life support and, after attaching a more compact version of the devices keeping the figure alive, disapparated with all three in tow.

Pernelle looked up sadly from her work and to the spot that Harry had vacated just a moment before.

"If you're going to do what I think you are I wish you the very best of luck Harry Potter". As a former immortal she had sometimes felt that she was fighting the will of time and had a vague idea, especially from Harry's life story, how difficult that might be. She hoped that this was one fight the will of time lost and that with all her heart Harry succeeded.

Grimmauld Place was as dreary and dark as Harry remembered and it pained him that Sirius was forced to live in such horrible conditions especially after all that he had endured at Azkaban.

It was so dark and dreary not even Remus Lupin stayed overnight and given the fact that he was social outcast from almost everyone in the magical world due to his condition that spoke volumes about the state the house was in.

It also spoke about the fickle nature of Remus Lupin, Harry mused darkly, see your friend in pain and don't stay to comfort him. Don't bother to check on your dearest friends child and instead take the word of an old man that he was safe without checking for yourself because you're a dark creature and no one could be worse off than you.

Harry snorted at that unkind thought as he didn't know that this was the way it happened but the fact that he wasn't here now helping Sirius spoke volumes about the man.

Admittedly the fact that the house was basically empty apart from Sirius did help Harry with his plans at the moment though.

The only other semi regular guests were the Weasley's and the first time that he was fifteen he was told that they were there often. Given the revelations (or manipulations) that he had discovered in Dumbledore's and Snapes treatment of him he had not taken it for granted when he had returned.

Imagine my surprise, Harry thought, when my recon droids reported that they were only there two weeks either side of when Harry visited. The thing that annoys me the most is the way Sirius latches onto the smallest crumb of comfort like a man drowning in the sea does with driftwood. However, to be fair, he supposed that any comfort would be welcome after a long period of time with the Dementors.

With a very loud crack Kreacher appeared with a pop and just as quickly was knocked unconscious by Harry and, before it yelled for help the portrait of Sirius's mother was frozen in the same way that Harry had done for those at Hogwarts.

That was not to say that Harry didn't have a small amount of revenge though. He didn't knock the elf out with magic after all and found that he was deeply pleased with the crunching sound that his foot made on Kreacher's head after it had connected with the the vile little arse's nose (not to mention how nicely the little bastard slid quickly across the floor from the force of the impact). He followed the assault with a memory charm for good measure and then did the same to the painting just to be safe.

Wasting no time Harry bounded, as quietly as he could while levitating the unconscious body behind him, off the stairs. He passed the room that he stayed in the last time that he was here and, almost giddily, into Sirius's room.

Sirius Black had been many things in his long life. He was a womaniser and a prankster, skilled in most magics of his age and had rebelled against his family without a second thought. Nowhere was it ever said that he was in any way stupid (except by a certain biased and greasy haired potions master).

So when Harry came bursting into the room Sirius was not only awake but had his wand hand pointed at the door and, as Harry entered, his Godson's face. Thankfully for Harry's continued sanity Sirius wore boxes to bed and so he was spared the horrific image of his father figure in the nude. That being said he didn't particularly appreciate having a wand pointed directly at his face.

That his godfathers eyes were just a little wild could have been to do with his stay in the Wizarding World's most famous prison but, then again, it could have had something to do with the fact that his school aged Godson (who by all rights should have been at Hogwarts) had just burst into his room in the middle of the night.

"Harry? How are you? What are you…" asked Sirius sleepily.

"No time" Harry said softly and, when Sirius's wand dipped from it's ready position, he acted. Harry said a silent apology in his head even as he stunned his Godfather. Still objectively Harry realised that the fact that the stunner had hit his Godfather in the face and Harry had captured his surprised expression perfectly was quite funny even as Sirius dropped like a sack of potatoes to the floor.

Then he quickly propped up both Sirius and the body so that they were facing each other on his godfathers bed and turned on the droid. Harry was very grateful that he felt no burning sensation from the amulet around his neck as it would have been just his luck to have traveled all this way back only to screw up the timeline at the last moment. It was more than that especially with the fact that the machines to correct an error had been dismantled.

After less than an hour, during which two brilliant beams of white light from the droid connected the two men, the process was complete and for all intent and purposes there were now two Sirius Black's propped up on the bed.

Flash imprinting memories in this way was not normally done as within a few days it would lead to psychosis, split personalities, insanity and possibly a horrible death. Thankfully symptoms set in at a minimum of one day and, as the battle was going to begin less than a day from now, it was hardly a concern.

He then quickly grabbed the still stunned Sirius and sent a weak rennervate charm at the clone leaving a silencing spell on his mother's painting (it would wear off eventually and Harry figured that this Sirius could use some peace given what was going to happen to him).

Then, like he was never there, Harry disapparated with his Godfather in tow but he did manage to grab the real locket in a rag that he had in his pocket before he left.

Popping by way of Gringotts to avoid the awkwardness of trying to ask for an international portkey with a wanted a murderer in tow and as he was uncertain if he could side along apparate Sirius over the channel he reappeared eventually at his ship.

"Take care of him would you?" Harry said to Nicholas Flamel while privately enjoying the Alchemists gobsmacked expression. Before he disappeared with a pop once again.

"Cheeky bastard" Nic remarked as Harry left and he bent down to pick up the unconscious man.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21: Reacquainting With Luna and Her Secret/ Lightsaber, Magic and Blood

18th June 2000

Today was the day, down to almost the very minute, that Harry Potter the fifteen year old would walk through the Veil of Death and become part of ancient history. That also meant that he, the future Harry, would begin the old Harry's life from where he had left off.

In all honesty Harry was quite worried about that as, apart from misgivings over the Weasley's as they were so close to Dumbledore and needing to talk to Neville about a few things, there was the decidedly complicated situation with Luna.

He had an idea about what could help them remain close but he was smart enough to realise that he couldn't force anything and that he really wasn't the kind to do that anyway especially after his early training in his Force powers.

If she didn't want him in her life after she had heard his entire story than that, to him, was simply fair enough.

It wasn't like he was a monk in the time that he had been away after all. He had tried many times to have relationships with other women but, aside from having to lie about who he was and his past, he had never found anyone that he could share his quiet moments and peaceful thoughts with in the same way that he had with Luna. In the end he had realised that these women were constantly competing with a memory and, worse than that, with a ghost that had the tantalizing promise of not actually being dead.

When he had come to this realisation (and to his shame it was after a few relationships and far too late in his opinion) he realised it was not right for either of them and stopped trying to have relationships until he was able to, in one way or another, put that segment of his past behind him as he realised it would not have been fair on women to keep going as they got more invested than he could.

When one laughed at something that he hated he would think of the quiet discussions that he and Luna had shared. When another pointed out a beautiful evening he found himself remembering the almost literal hundreds of evenings that he had spent with Luna watching the sunset over the beautiful Scottish countryside. He knew that it was not rational and not fair but it was how he felt.

He was aware that he had built up a somewhat unrealistic image of Luna in his head after all this time (he was not completely stupid after all) but he had needed the drive that the image had given him to get home. While he might have been able to use memories of his other friends in place of what Luna may have thought or felt there was one key difference between them and her.

Given how much they had shared with each other where his friends represented his present she, to him, represented the idea of being able to move forward free of interference or demands on his time. She became a symbol to him of a possible future without the threats of the Wizarding World where he may be happy.

If Luna as a person did not want that with him then it was very sad but he would thank her as (knowingly or not) she had given him hope when his days had seemed their darkest.

Harry was back in what he liked to call his 'Jedi Battle Dress' with his curicass of N.A.S. and his lightsabers hanging from his belt. His ring was, as always, on his finger with his original wand (he had after all retrieved it earlier that day) paired with his emerald green saber on his off side and his new ebony wand and sapphire blade within his main hands reach. The wands themselves were on his wrists in holsters and just behind his green Lightsaber was his Sorosub Security S-5 Blaster.

He had disillusioned himself outside of the main door of the Death Room in the Department of Mysteries and, when his younger self had opened the door, he had slipped inside and waited until he saw himself go through the Veil.

Both Luna and Neville were obviously shocked when Harry appeared, dressed very strangely to them, almost right next to them and before they could say a word he smiled at them and spoke first.

"Luna. Neville. How have you been?" Harry said quickly "I have missed you both so very much".

"Harry? Didn't you just….?" Neville began.

"Time travel" Harry shrugged "it's a bitch. A word of advice stay _away_ from that thing"

"Why Harry?" Neville joked "Are you afraid that someone else will time travel?"

"No" Harry said firmly "it's just that I turned the gate off at the other end. I just have no clue what will happen to you…. I do have to say however that you're taking me travelling through time rather well".

"You are Harry Potter and we are in the Department of Mysteries so I think that I have used up all my disbelief for the next week…. or the next century" was Neville's dry response.

"You are Harry" agreed Luna in her soft peaceful voice " though you are very different".

As Harry turned and looked at her he couldn't help but grin a small and heartfelt smile that was hesitatingly returned by her. Then he focused his attention on Neville and he saw his friend grin as well clearly simply glad that Harry was back from wherever he had been.

Just as clearly he had questions and those very questions were bursting from his eyes but, Harry knew, they would have to wait at least a few days.

"You want me to go with you" Luna said and in her typical fashion it was not a question but rather a simple and blunt statement of fact. Harry puzzled over that for a second until his eyes widened even as he brushed her with the lightest touches with his Force senses.

"I think that would be best yes" Harry said quietly with a new almost awed tone to his voice. He turned back to Neville and looked his friend up and down. "Do you trust me?".

Neville for his part simply snorted at that question. Regardless of the circumstances Neville had just followed Harry into battle and been led by him into what had currently been the most dangerous moments of his life and survived so, regardless of anything else, trust was not an issue between them.

"When has a Longbottom ever not trusted a Potter?" Was the boys simple reply and Harry couldn't help but silently agree that, that had been true for the longest time.

"Fair enough" Harry conceded out loud "just…. tell no one I was here and don't look at Snape or Dumbledore in the eye until I next see you. I hope it will be in a few days but it could be longer".

"Occlumens and passive Legilimency?" asked Neville shrewdly.

"You know the Mind Arts?" Asked Harry surprised.

"You don't?" Neville shook his head in shock "That's almost criminal for someone of your station. It does explain a few things however... or at least leads me to question a lot of things…". Neville paused and then continued "I know the basics and it's enough that I would be able to tell if someone was trying to enter my mind at the very least".

"I'm afraid your questions will still have to wait for now but it does make things easier that you already are aware of the Mind Arts". Harry responded casually and, to both Neville's and Luna's shock, he conjured a self-inking quill and parchment into his hands without a word or seemingly a single gesture from any magical foci. "Please write down your floo address and watch your DA coin for a date... I assume you're going home with your grandmother early after all of this excitement and now that the O.W.L's are done?" At his friends nod Harry passed him the writing implements and before long Harry swiftly got them back with Neville's address on them. "I will meet you there soon... within a couple of weeks. Prepare a large lunch Nev I have a lot to tell you and some questions to ask".

"I will be there as well Neville" Luna stated. Again it was not a question and Harry frowned at that before dragging his mind back to the most important issue of the moment.

"Luna do you trust me?" At her nod as well as her open and honest smile he continued "Good. We need to visit your father as he will need to withdraw you from Hogwarts for the summer early. We have a great deal to catch up on".

When she took his hand he swiftly apparated them to her father's house (the wards to room being down while the cleanup was ongoing) and, once that little detail was taken care of, they next went straight to Gringotts and from there took an international portkey to Bluestone.

"How did you know where I live well enough to take me there?" Luna asked clearly curious at his new found knowledge. Harry shouldn't have been surprised she was, after all, a Ravenclaw.

"It's a very long story but suffice it to say I was there a long long time ago" Harry responded slightly uncomfortable with the subject matter.

"How far back did you go?" She asked with all airiness lost from her voice as her natural thirst for knowledge asserted itself once again.

"You know I never really checked and it's difficult to tell what with the alterations to the calendar here and the differences in the time scale of one year between here and where I ended up. I was certainly gone for hundreds of years though…" his reluctant reply didn't seem to faze her.

"Tell me everything" she said eagerly.

"I don't think I can" he said even as it caused Luna's face to fall in the light of the late evening sun. That was until he took a breath and managed to continue "but I can show you what happened. Come into the house and I _will_ show you everything but, I warn you, it is not all that pleasant".

They entered the house, untouched since Harry had last lived in it and sat in the spartan dining room. After first having removed the dust covers from both the chairs and the dining table it was now the only thing between the two people. To Luna it was simply a pretty and expensive table but, to Harry, it was a gulf that he wasn't sure that he could ever cross.

Luna assumed that she knew what Harry's frown earlier was about. He had guessed that she was a magical Seer and she had therefore began to prepare herself for the inevitable rejection that tended to come with people finding out that someone had the unique but very taxing gift.

Seers came in two types. The first was what Professor Trelawney was, a magical Oracle, quite common (at least relatively speaking among those with the gift) and they were bound by the nature of their gift to speak only in riddles and never remember what they said. This meant that for all intents and purposes, aside for a few moments of their lives, they were as normal as any witch or wizard could ever be.

The second type (and much more rare) was a True Magical Seer. These people rarely came into their gifts before their early twenties, never spoke in rhymes unless they wanted to and were forced to remember everything they had ever seen with their gift. It was almost like whatever they saw was etched on their brain with a rusty needle and no potion, no magical technique or painkiller could ever remove what they had experienced.

Thankfully they were able to forget other things that they had learned just not their visions. Luna was different from them in the fact that her visions were not consistent, though by rights they should have been, and the fact that far from getting it in her early twenties she received her first vision when her and her father were burying her mother.

Like most future Seers whose gift had matured early she was forced to grow up very quickly. After all how could anyone remain a child when they could conceivably view the future at any moment and remember all the fragments of it that they had received. They had no control over what they saw, nor could they necessarily put it into context, but the fact remained that they saw birth, death, pain, suffering, hope and joy and everything in between and they almost lived it as if it were their own life.

If your experiences truly were a mark of your age and maturity then Seers, once they came into their gifts, became ancient very quickly and it was yet another reason why magicals traditionally married early. This was in part to allow those with exotic magical gifts to bond with a partner before they came into play. It was a minor miracle then that Luna had adapted so well as historically child Seers tended to either go insane or commit suicide before they reached adulthood.

She also expected rejection because they often received it as who would want a friend or a lover that could inadvertently learn their future, their past, their deepest secret or even the day of their death.

She was wrong of course but it was what she believed and so when he didn't immediately say anything about it she wanted to smile but held herself back trying not to believe in the faint hope of acceptance as it would hurt too much when crushed. She almost did anyway until she saw his very serious face when he talked about showing her the path his life had taken.

"Show me" she said firmly. Whatever it was, she thought, she would face it head on as she had everything else. Then she couldn't help but internally chuckle as she realised that Harry's Gryffindor tendencies were rubbing off on her in the fact that she was so blunt about such a sensitive subject.

Who better to understand the weight of memory and the price of it, she thought, if not a magical Seer?

With a wave of his hand a small round droid came flying into Harry's palm.

"This" he began " is a recon droid. It is a very special one that I have only used once before and that was last night. One of its first and most basic features is to share memories. It can also copy them but, before you ask, it is too dangerous for this much information".

"So it's sort of like a pensive with a few extra features?" Asked Luna intrigued and leaning forward at the idea of such a device.

"Sort of. The most pertinent difference at the moment is that it not only shares information but the emotions behind the memories themselves. In that it is closer to a vision or legilimency than a pensive". Her next question served to remind Harry how smart she actually was.

"How quickly before the memories begin to degrade and the details become lost? Will the entire memory be lost?"

"For this much information? Most of it I suspect and a few days maybe less. It is your brain's natural defence against foreign memories and, without occlumency, if you actively try to keep it, it would be very bad for you. To stop that happening I added a safety feature since last night that will do it automatically if you try and resist the degradation. Incidentally, at your bodies biological age, it is a bad idea in general to try and do that…. a child's mind would have more room and adaptability but it seems, as in many things, I'm an exception to that rule". Harry smiled a humorless and bitter grin at that as he believed that the only reason he was that way was the length of time that he was forced to have a horcrux and the adaptations that his mind had gone under to keep itself sane. There was honestly no telling if Luna's mind was similar and it was a risk he was not willing to take.

"What are we waiting for?" Luna demanded " Turn the machine on".

Harry couldn't help it as he chuckled at her demanding tone. Then, before he could second-guess himself, he turned it on and decided to hold nothing back as the twin beams connected the two lost souls.

He showed everything, from his earliest memory to approaching her and Neville a few hours ago (after the time travel), and as was its nature the technology also imparted every feeling that went along with it.

Luna saw and felt all of his joys and sorrows, all of his victories and defeats and she could feel his need to return to this time, to his friends and to her.

It was not a possessive or demanding thing, she thought, he did not want to own her or control her. Instead, she realised, it was more a sort of talisman, a bulwark against the horrors of a very long life and a way of keeping a very small amount of hope alive. Hope of seeing her and his friends had become a central fact of his existence because, in a universe that was never fair and in which he knew nothing at the start, it was almost literally the only thing that he had to hold onto.

Unbeknownst to her, throughout the experience, tears were slowly running down her face until she couldn't cry anymore. The emotions of it were overwhelming after all as there was so much sadness in his life, even discounting the Dursleys, so much sorrow and so much pain. She felt what he felt during this as if it were her sorrow and her pain and the depth of it she simply could not comprehend though she tried.

There was good deal of joy too of course and happiness (even forms of love) but these were few and far between and Harry had kept those moments held tight in his mind, much like a squirrel does when gathering nuts for the winter, and hoarded them against the dark times that he had faced. The most important thing to her that she learned however was that, no matter what form of relationship they ended up having, unless she told him to go away he would _never_ abandon her and that she cherished above all.

It was almost like there was three people in his mind. There was the Harry that she remembered from their time together who was shy, sweet and almost overwhelmed by life. There was the Harry that the Jedi and the Galaxy had formed with pressure and time who was quiet, introspective and almost cold. Then there was the Harry that reared himself in battle, decisive, vicious, strong-willed and when he could be... merciful... possibly even kind.

She knew enough to realise that the three Harry's were not separate people that as he had, over his long life, reconciled each aspect of his personality into a cohesive and fully integrated whole.

More wondrous than that, more than anything that he had seen or done (to her at least), was what Harry wanted with her. He had many hopes of course, half fanciful ideas and dreams, but at his core all he wanted for her was to be happy.

She did not yet know if she would be able to reconcile the Harry that she had known with the Harry that was now with her but, she understood that it really didn't matter to Harry one way or the other. If she told him to have nothing to do with her, to leave, she would hurt him and do so badly but it would be accepted and somewhere deep down just as she expected rejection so too did he.

She opened her eyes to her much complaining body and the dawn's rays began to first touch her face. She was very confused right now, after all it was a lot to take in and she was still trying to get it sorted in her own mind, but one thing that was crystal clear to her suddenly took precedence.

"You tried to save my mother?" She asked, even as she left her chair on unsteady legs and approached his, ignoring Harry's guarded and sorrowful expression. His surprise was palatable as she engulfed him in a hug and, after a moment, he privately revelled in holding her softly in his arms. "Thank you for trying".

"You are welcome" Harry said sincerely. He looked into her silvery blue eyes and was about to continue until he got another surprise from her.

She slapped him. Hard.

"That was _incredibly_ stupid! You risked everything...everything". She then softly caressed his cheek for a moment. "Still it was very sweet". Harry didn't know how to react to her change in mood and so, hesitating only slightly, he continued.

"I did hold one thing back however... as I did not know how to broach the subject…"

"Oh?" She said while gracefully withdrawing from the hug.

"I think you have the Force" Harry began but, unlike Luna, he did not grin at that "but I think it's damaged or suppressed".

"How sure are you?" She asked worriedly.

"The longer that I am with you? I grow more and more certain with every second".

"Can you fix it?" She asked worriedly.

"I can try" Harry began in a soft voice "but how about some food first?".

A Potter House Elf appeared and gave them food without speaking (though he did bow) and then disappeared leaving the pair to their own thoughts. They ate in silence as Harry was trying to come to terms with the fact that he actually managed to make it this far and Luna was busy trying to digest everything that she had seen before the details faded from her mind.

Still even in this tense silence they both enjoyed each other's company and took comfort from the simple fact of sharing a meal with one another.

"How old are you now?" Asked Luna abruptly breaking the silence between them.

"About ninety I think. It is quite difficult to keep track although I am biologically fifteen and that does make a difference".

"How so?"

"Hormones. Don't underestimate the difference that they can make to your life" he said ruefully knowing that with the amount of the little bastards currently swimming around his system his judgement was... slightly... impaired.

"So you're what? Half your age?" She joked and he laughed happily at the silly question. In truth bodies were very much like a well worn jacket to him in that they were both his and yet not quite him.

"And you?" He asked joking in return " How old are you?".

"Whatever do you mean?" she responded impishly.

"I may never have met a Seer only Trelawney who, if she is not a fake, is an Oracle but that doesn't mean I don't recognise the signs. I have read about them and, from what I know, they see pieces of the past, present and future. I have to assume that a level of maturity comes hand in hand with that".

"The simple answer is that I'm fourteen but not fourteen just as you are fifteen but not fifteen. The complex answer is... well complex as I just don't know". She smiled softly at him and, looking down at their empty plates, Harry realised that they had dithered long enough on other things.

"Are you sure that you want me to try and fix this? It's a very personal thing... going into someone's mind and going that deep I'm bound to see some things that you would rather I didn't".

Luna looked concerned, Harry realised, and in all honesty she should be as every time he entered his own core it was as easy as breathing to him and almost instantaneous. However from everything that he had ever read he knew that even with permission he would have to sink through any natural barriers and would likely see a fair few memories on the way. The odd nature of the human mind would mean that any memory that she naturally tried to hide, if not done successfully, would be pushed to the forefront of her natural barriers and he would have to see it whether he wanted to or not.

After a long moment she smiled and then looked at him frankly.

"You are warning me? You just showed me your entire life and you're worried about seeing something from _me_?" She asked incredulously.

"It's all about choice. I've had someone in my mind looking at everything they wanted with no permission from me. I could choose what to show you where as you won't be able to stop me seeing things that you might rather I not see".

"If there is something wrong" Luna said while looking directly into his eyes "then I want it fixed. Do it".

Without another word Harry dove into her mind.

Harry was surprised to find that her mind wasn't a complete and utter mess. From the strange, almost repressed, feeling he had got from his senses he had half expected utter devastation to greet his mental eyes. He had also expected to see some of the creatures (or at least mental representations of them) that she often spoke about but, aside from the occasional phantom and translucent image on the way down, her mind appeared to be very ordinary.

Though he had tried not to Harry was also aware that he had seen some very personal memories of hers. It wasn't like he could turn his non existent back so, instead, he had quickly buried what he had found in his own subconscious. That helped to an extent but he was aware that, somewhere deep down at least, he would know of them.

When he felt himself 'land' in the center of Luna's mental depths he, with barely a thought, created a mental representation of himself and looked around for something similar to the tree that was in his own mind.

There was no tree. Instead he saw a snarling tiger seemingly frozen both in time and mid leap. The reason it did not move was that it was wrapped in thin golden chains that covered everything over and over in an almost ceaseless pattern from muzzle to tail. The chains themselves were not only gold but seemed to ripple and beat with both power and light.

I shouldn't be surprised, Harry thought, that her magic would take the form of an animal given that she talks about strange and wondrous creatures all of the time. I'm more surprised that the animal is so normal looking rather than one of the others that she talks about so often. Had Dumbledore or Snape affected her magic as well?

Then Harry would have slapped himself if he were able to as he realised that he had made a simple but understandable error. Not only were the chains around the tiger completely natural (unlike the inhibitors that were on his own magic) but the tiger wasn't actually a representation of her own magic. As he looked closer at the tiger he saw, beneath the fur, sparkling motes that led him to conclude that it wasn't just a representation of something in Luna's mind but was actually the congealed or suppressed manifestation of her connection to the Force.

That meant, logically, that the chains could only be one thing. Luna's magic was wrapped tightly around her Force connection greatly inhibiting both.

At first he was confused as to why her magic was reacting so badly to her Force Sensitivity. As he had no idea what could have caused this he moved to study the chains themselves closer and when he was mere millimeters from it he noticed something.

At first he was stumped as aside from the different colour to his own (each person's magic had a different hue leading to a different magical signature when combined with a specific focus after all) but after a moment he found that the magic was deeper… somehow more three dimensional than his. He began to slowly study it even more and hoped that something, some piece of the puzzle, would come to him even as an unrealised idea niggled at the back of his mind.

He did not know how long it took until inspiration struck him, time like everything else was fluid here, but he knew that he had been looking at the chains slowly and carefully for quite some time before his brain released its half forgotten knowledge. Harry may have an excellent memory that had been further supplemented by occlumency but the human mind did have its limits and he did have a much longer life than was intended for even the eldest practitioners of the Mind Arts. Some things were bound to be only half remembered despite his techniques.

He had already realised that Luna was, at the very least, some form of Oracle and much more likely than that was a True Seer. That was, to him, the most likely explanation and he then quickly escaped her mind and opened his eyes and found himself staring into her wide open and beautiful eyes.

"What did you find?" She asked and then added hopefully "Can you fix it?".

"It's not quite that simple I am afraid" Harry began "It appears that your magic and your ability with the Force are fighting each other".

Thankfully, if only for the moment at least, with Harry's past experiences still fresh in her mind (though they were already just starting to fade and dull in her mind) she had a fair idea of what that meant. The Jedi, and the Sith, had dealt with the Force for untold centuries and Harry's first desire as a Jedi so long ago was to learn as much as he could through the Council of Knowledge.

"What are my options?" Luna asked bluntly.

"As I see it you have four options. The first is that I do nothing and you're essentially cut off from ever being able to reliably access the Force".

"What exactly is that doing to my magic?" She asked interrupting him.

"I honestly have no idea. Though the Jedi have studied the Force for a very long while magic, as we understand it, is unknown to them and therefore there are no studies on how they could interact with each other. The only real frame of reference that I can use is my own bindings but that presents its own problems. For a start they were placed by external sources and were not naturally part of me and they also seemed specifically designed to block my own magic". His reply was slow and measured as he did not want to misrepresent anything that he was telling her even by accident.

"Go on" she gently coaxed after realising that he was giving her the time to absorb what he was saying.

"The second option is that, through a Jedi based technique, I block your connection to the Force. Think of it like I go and gather that part of yourself and then push it to one side. After I had done that I would build a wall around it that you could never break. This _should_ free up your magic with the distinct possibility of improving your casting and core as well as enabling you to fully realise your gift as a Seer. It would mean that you would never be able to touch the Force in the same way that a Jedi does or that I do ever again".

Harry's voice was soft trying to give her all the information he could but without colouring it with what he may want her to do. This was after all her decision and not his as he had no right to decide what she wanted to do with her own mind and gifts. "It will be very painful though and there is a very strong likelihood that, if you change your mind, I will not be able to undo it as I have never tried to undo it before".

"The third?" She prodded.

"Similar to the second method. This option however causes almost no pain in you as you can be sedated for it although this option would take a few days to set up as it requires a ritual that has been willfully lost over time. In essence instead of affecting your abilities with the Force in would strip you of your magic instead".

"I have known and accepted magic as part of my life. I cannot give it up" her tone was resolute and unyielding.

"I understand. The fourth is a little more complicated and I would have to check my library but I believe I could slowly, over the course of a few weeks, first separate the Seer gift from the rest of your magic and then slowly as well as gently bleed it from your system". He finished his explanation in the same flat but gentle tone that he had used throughout his explanation of her options.

"Jedi can see the future can't they?" She asked after a very long pause considering what she would do.

"Sometimes. The future is hard to see and it's not like we can actually control it. Then again, from everything that I have read, Seers cannot do that with any consistency either" Harry reflected.

"Will my creatures disappear as well?" She asked in an unusually small voice. From all of the conversations that they had with each other in the past Harry knew that, aside from the few years that she had been friends with Ginny, these were her only friends since her mother had died and Ginny herself had abandoned her when her mother pushed for it because thought Luna too odd.

Though her absent-mindedness could be due to her gifts her fathers was due to grief instead and it showed in how she was brought up. This made the creatures all the more special to her as she was not only the only person that could see them but they had been there for her when no one else was.

"We are in uncharted territory here and, as you're the only person that can see them, I have no idea how to answer that except to say that it is a possibility and you would have to tell me after all is said and done. Like the second option however I don't think I would ever be able to undo it either way".

Luna thought long and hard about her decision. It was a risk to her to possibly lose her oldest friends and that thought was more than a little frightening to her. Still she knew and felt that war was in Harry's past and future as she could almost see the echoes of battle floating around him. She also cared for him a great deal and, although she wasn't sure how far that feeling went, he had been her true friend when no one else had managed to be more than simply polite to her at best or actively bullying her at the worst.

"I'll take the last option" she decided having come to the conclusion that if Harry was going to end up in a war or even wars then she would face those times with her first real friend even if it could put her life and creatures at risk.

"Thankfully the first part of this is very simple as I'm only trying to separate the two for now. Once you get comfortable we can start" Harry responded gratefully already thinking about how to thin her magic (for lack of a better term) by using his own as a guide.

Luna smiled at him and he quickly returned it as they both began by closing their eyes beginning the long and delicate process of preparing her mind for the treatment and the long learning curve that was to come.

The hospital ward was quiet with the peaceful nature of it only mildly interrupted by the movement of solemn faced mediwitches and wizards. It was here, in a supposedly high security ward, that Harry's injured friends (bar of course Neville and Luna) were being treated for the injuries that they had sustained during their battle at the Department of Mysteries.

Harry was very grateful that one of the first things that Dobby had done for him was to retrieve his personal effects from Hogwarts as he both didn't have to get them himself and he now had his father's cloak. He had no idea why but, in part thanks to the history told him by the Nation, he knew that it had not only lasted a lot longer than the average cloak of it's kind but was also much more effective.

He was informed that more information about the cloak was available in his family's archives and it was on his list of things to do, but according to the law set down by various treaties, he would need to access them inside his Family Vault as that was where they had to be stored for safekeeping. The earliest that he could have accessed it (and the written histories that it contained) was today.

According to Potter family by laws he had to have passed his N.E.W.T's and be either twenty one as well as the recognised head of the family or, in the alternative, be the recognised Head of another family. Thankfully, in the strictest interpretation of the rules, absorbing the House of Vauquelin with him as its head counted although there was a legal fiction in that he was going to be (when the plan was explained to him) the 'heir' and then Head for a grand total of around three minutes until it was fully absorbed into House Potter holdings.

Still that was not why he was here. He came to check on his friends and his invisibility cloak helped with that as he was sure people were still searching for him. When he had first received the cloak he wasn't surprised to find several tracking charms on it. From the far too intimate knowledge that he had gained from feeling the magic in his mind he was aware that Dumbledore had once again meddled with anything and everything to do with Harry Potter.

Still that, all combined with his in now increased knowledge of magic and stealth, had enabled him to sneak into the ward to check on his friends with relative ease. He was going to pull the cloak off in a bit and reveal himself to his friends but, within a few moments, he concluded that this was a very bad idea and more worthy of the brash Gryffindor that he once was rather than the fully educated man that he had become.

Not only would Dumbledore been looking everywhere for him but, in all fairness, he hadn't seen them in a very long time and although Hermione was sleeping both Ron and Ginny were deep in conversation with each other.

Despite himself he drew closer to the two and studying their charts top sheet, he was pleased to see, thanks to the wonders of magical medicine they both appeared to be healthy and, aside from some scarring in Ron's case, they simply seemed to be there for observation.

Hermione was a whole different kettle of fish. She was still unconscious due to the dark magic that had infused the curse that wounded her so badly and would be there for at least another week before she even woke up.

"Well that all went to shit didn't it?" Said Ron with clear venom in his voice. "Potter almost got me killed _again_ ".

"Relax Ron everything is going to plan" Ginny answered dismissively even as Harry was intrigued by the idea of a plan for him. "Soon I'll be married to Harry and all the money you have been paid will be more than worth it".

"It better be double what I've been paid when you got your hooks into him" spat Ron "no it better be double that again or better yet triple".

"I'm sure" she replied in a self-satisfied tone of voice "that your _dear_ friend and brother-in-law would be more than happy to help you out especially after I've spoken to him". Ron grunted clearly unhappy with the response but with a noticeable gleam of greed in his eyes.

Harry wanted to jump out and confront them especially when Ron merely turned over as if to sleep signalling the end of their conversation. He resisted the impulse however as not only would that give away everything that he had heard and the fact that he was here but it would most likely bring Dumbledore running as soon as one of them could scream. Instead he decided to cast a sleeping spell on the pair (one that was much more commonly used on particularly fussy newborns) and waited for it to take effect.

When he was sure that had taken effect he moved as close to Ron's bed as he dared to and, leaning over, he gently opened the redheads eyes and with barely a whispered spell he entered the boys mind.

Legilimency was normally a difficult process because people naturally resisted the intrusion into their mind as, like all the Mind Arts, it was just not the way a mind was supposed to work. In some ways occlumency was considered easier due to the fact that it was simply trying to enhance the minds natural defences and memory recall whereas legilimency was, no matter how skillfully done, and unnatural intrusion upon the mind of its victim.

When you entered a sleeping mind however (at least one without occlumency training that would keep the barriers up without conscious thought) the problems that you faced were much different from the normal ones that you might expect to encounter.

There were no defences per say and if done carefully your target would not even know that you had been inside their mind. The downside however was that, instead of dealing with the waking mind, you dealt with a mind that resided somewhere between the conscious and the subconscious.

This meant that Harry couldn't simply direct Ron to the information that he wanted in the same way that he could have done if he was awake. Instead of reaching in demanding information and tearing it out Harry instead would have to coax information out of Ron by gently leading him there all without waking his target.

He started by projecting an image of himself and, instead of the information he wanted, he got several memories of their adventures together. What surprised Harry the most about these instances was the lens they were coloured by… Ron himself. They showed Harry to be weak and ineffectual and Ron to be the true leader of the Trio. If Harry had harboured any doubts about how self-absorbed the ginger boy actually was then these memories, that were so far from the reality of the situation that the sky might as well be green in them, cured him of them as did the ech of clear disgust and greed that Ron felt towards Harry during these moments.

Then Harry retasked himself and tried the image of Ron surrounded by almost a mountain of gold and that was when his reading of Weasley's mind paid off. A veritable torrent of memories assaulted Harry's former view of Ron.

He saw Dumbledore agree to pay Ron to befriend Harry and from those same memories he understood that a large part of Ron's 'job' was to keep Harry on the path that Dumbledore had laid out for him. This included (but was not limited to) keeping Harry unaware of his heritage, away from disruptive influences like the Longbottoms and helping him relax rather than learn too much by studying.

Pulling out of his former friends head all he felt was a deep and overwhelming disgust for the self absorbed and self serving Ron Weasley. The emotions that Harry felt coming from Ron's recollections ran so contrary to Harry's natural character that he felt more than a little ill after feeling them even if only from a memory impression.

It appeared that Ron couldn't even conceive of the idea that usually one had to work hard to get what they truly wanted. Instead, Harry gathered from the feelings attached to the memories that he saw, Ron had the steadfast belief that he should and would receive anything that he wanted as he was Ron Weasley and everything he wanted was therefore owed to him.

It was soul crushing to Harry that not only did his first friend not care about him at all beyond how he could use him but he also was viewed as an idiot and was therefore a completely disposable bag of hot air and flesh to Ron. To Weasleys mindset all he was ever worth was the contents of his Vault and, regardless of the fact that he only had such a thing at the cost of his parents, it should and did all belong to Ron and that Harry simply did not know it yet.

After silently collecting himself he moved slowly over to Ginny hoping for better but now expecting the worst after the jarring nature of her brothers mind (self-centered cesspit that it was).

Her mind could not have been more different than her brothers at the start as when he began to project images of wealth into her mind he got no response at all. He began to hope, despite himself, that she was an unwilling or otherwise coerced accomplice of both Dumbledore and her brother.

Sadly for Harry's hopes it was not to be as when he put forth images of himself he received a response that killed that fledgling hope stone dead as he found that she was a willing even _eager_ participant in their manipulations of him.

To her the Boy-Who-Lived was more than a myth. He was everything to her and she would do anything to have him as her own. The strongest image associated with him was her future wedding day, in fact it was so strong that to her it was even clearer than her actual memories, she had even planned her future nuptials down to the smallest detail. She had even decided what dress she was going to wear, the amount of children they would have and even their future children's names.

The major problem with that, aside from the disturbing nature of her mind, was that she wished to marry the Boy-Who-Lived and Harry was not and never had been that person. She had no interest in any images of their possible married life or how they would get to that point. She was equally unresponsive to any image of them arguing as,in her fantasy, that simply wasn't possible. They had a storybook romance in her mind and, as all good storybooks do, the ending could only be happily ever after.

As far as she was concerned he would spend his time heroically saving the day every single day and then go home to her as that was what the Boy-Who-Lived was supposed to do. She would even earnestly cry and tell him how proud of him she was. She truly had no conception of any other role as the only Mrs Potter that she wanted to be was the one that was constantly on the front of the _Daily Prophet_ and despite his hatred of his fame she intended to outright revel in it.

The only thing that she kept from Dumbledore and her brother was the fact that she intended to keep him alive past fighting Voldemort. Alive and hers at any rate and that existence, though blissful to her, scared Harry more than having his soul sucked out by Dementors at that moment.

Worse his thoughts and opinions were never even considered. In his previous relationships, doomed though they may have been, Harry had always tried to put his partners needs first and it was rather the fact that he could never be completely honest with them plus the fact that (if he was being totally honest with himself) the idea of what he and Luna _might_ be that sunk those relationships.

The core motivation of their attractions was what seperated Harry and Ginny and their paths had only diverged further from that foundation. Ginny believed that Harry needed her and that he was hers to do with as she pleased, whether he knew it or not, as she knew better than him. She wished to have him because he was her property and the Boy-Who-Lived her hero. To her that was all that mattered.

To Harry on the other hand as someone who had every stage of his life dictated to him that kind of possessiveness, that kind of control, was exactly what he did not want. He valued free will and choice above everything else in a relationship. To him any relationship that did not have that at its core was no real relationship at all and he would not, could not, become like Ginny.

That was one of the many reasons why he had refrained from interacting with Luna from the moment that she was born. If she was raised to believe that she and Harry were destined to start a relationship rather than choosing it herself (or not as the case may be) then their lives together would have been unequal and built on an obligation that she had to fulfill rather than the true partnership that he desired. To Harry they not only had to love one another as true partners but she also had to choose him freely and fairly or not at all.

Ginny had no such compulsion to allow Harry the freedom of choice. To her it was a foregone conclusion that he loved her and that they would marry and she would go to any lengths to make things happen as she wished. In her own way she was as selfish and self-centered as her brother and, when he prodded her mind with the idea of them not marrying, he caught the true scope and depth of her infatuation.

She would do anything to make that happen and no action was immoral in the pursuit of that, no action illegal, as to her it was merely fulfilling destiny and if _her_ Harry ever found out about it he would thank her for moving things along as they should have been and down the proper path.

In her mind the wedding had already as good as happened as to her it was as true a fact as the idea that the sun would rise in the morning. What disturbed him more was that she had shared her plan to 'snag' Harry with her mother at a very young age and, far from discouraging her, Molly advised and intended to aid her plans as much as she could.

For only example of many when he viewed a memory of Ginny and her mother discussing him during what he assumed was his fourth year (they had begun by Ginny tearfully discussing his disastrous relationship with Cho after all) Molly had suggested using some very strong and mildly to heavily illegal potions to help Harry 'notice' her.

He may not have been the brightest person when it came to potions but he knew the ones that she had mentioned. These were not simple infatuation potions that a girl might use to steal a kiss from a shy boy but rather ones that were both powerful and deeply affected the subjects free will with the last one that she mentioned basically turning him into an infatuated zombie dependant on Ginny for every single action he might take.

The fact that Molly mentioned it as a last resort soothed him not at all and neither did her suggestion that Ginny try and show a little more skin and affection to Harry. When Ginny had raised a half hearted objection to that, she had been raised as a proper pureblood witch after all not some muggle harlot, Molly had easily convinced her to do so anyway. After all, to both of their minds, it would have been improper for Ginny to show that much skin to anyone _except_ Harry.

After all it was one thing to be that forward with a boyfriend and it was quite another to be that forward with ones husband. That, it seemed, was what Harry was to the two women. He was Ginny's husband who simply didn't know it yet and if he had other plans then they were to be pushed aside as the world took its only acceptable course. Clearly though it had almost no impact as Harry hadn't noticed her different behaviour in the year since though, from her memories, he knew that she had tried.

Harry's foundation of trust in his friends (other than Neville and Luna) was pretty much destroyed at this point. He was now questioning every friend that he had ever made at Hogwarts. That was until he realised that, thanks to Dumbledore's and Ron's manipulations no doubt, he could count his friends on his hands with fingers to spare. With Luna being more and relatively inconsequential (at least to the conspirators until the Department of Mysteries) only Hermione's and Neville's friendship was in doubt as though the twins may or may not have had anything to do with the plot he decided then and there he would not force them to choose between him and their family.

Neville was vetted as far as Harry was concerned not only by his personal family history and the Potter-Longbottom Alliance but also by discreet inquiries by the Goblin Nation itself. As an ancient wizarding family most of their business interactions (which included more than a few personal ones as well) were handled by Gringotts and they were second to none at obtaining intimate details on their clients. Though they hadn't told him what they had found they had said that the Longbottom family was trustworthy and that this snooping they conducted was only to better serve as the families bankers….of course.

Looking back, with his knowledge of the Weasley's machinations, he could see how Ron had so easily insinuated himself between Harry and anyone else that may have wanted to be his friend. After all he had been primed in his upbringing to latch on to the first person who showed him friendship and even his quidditch team mates, who as far as he knew were all kind people, were merely acquaintances.

Though he wanted to trust Hermione he frankly couldn't afford the luxury given everything that he had learned from the other two. So, as soon as he thought that he had gathered everything relevant from Ginny, he left her mind and approached Hermione. With a whispered apology in case she really was his friend he entered her mind with the same quiet casting that he had entered the others.

He only spent a few moments in her mind trying very hard not to violate her privacy anymore than he absolutely needed to. He stayed only long enough to ascertain that she was oblivious to the plots of both the Weasley's and Dumbledore although he did find out that she trusted the old man implicity.

That fact alone meant that, as much as it pained him, he couldn't trust her at the moment no matter how much she liked him or was unaware of the plots as trusting her would mean trusting everyone that she in turn trusted just in case she was pressured, coercerced or tricked to share information that he would not want shared.

With that decided and promising himself that he would make it up to Hermione at a later date he left as quietly as he came and, within half an hour, was back at Bluestone passing Lunas room until he reached his own. He planned to remain there, aside from a small trip to Gringotts to formally take up his title as Lord Potter, until the early hours of the twenty fifth.

He was not going to be idle however as, over the next week, aside from practicing both his magic and his Lightsaber Forms, he would try and fast track Luna's treatment to allow her access to all of her abilities to a small amount of success.

He should have known that quietly entering his home and attempting to sleep would not have worked however as, within moments of sitting down, his mind was swamped with the reality of the many betrayals that he had uncovered. It was almost as if every single one added to the next in an unending wave and he felt tears begin to fall silently down his cheeks.

His door banged open with a loud thud and Luna flew in like some blonde avenging missile to scoop him up in a gentle embrace. Haltingly, and taking comfort from her presence, he told her everything that he had discovered leaving nothing out even as she made soothing noises and stroked his back comfortingly.

At length his tears finally stopped and he felt both empty and cleansed at the same time.

His last conscious memory of the night was of Luna in her pajamas (he had his boxers on) simply holding him and giving comfort to him throughout the long and lonely night. There was nothing else to it, no sweeping desire, no ravaging of her innocence, just one friend holding another as they came to terms with the unfairness of life and the duplicity of horrible people.

Dumbledore

At roughly the same time Dumbledore was incensed.

Harry Potter was missing. His weapon was loose in the world without supervision and he had sent the entire Order, including a grumbling Snape, to look for the errant child.

Worse where he would have once dipped into the Potter Vaults for a 'donation' to the right people in the Ministry to help organise a more comprehensive search he could no longer do so. Not that he would have told them what he was looking for of course, merely that he would have paid someone in the Ministry to turn their sensors to one of the many tracking charms that he had placed on Harry's person. A memory charm later and they would have thought he'd asked them for a simple administrative favour, to push a law through for example, and he would have had Harry back under his control.

He couldn't do that however as those irritating creatures, the Goblins, had informed him this morning that the Potter Accounts were frozen until the morning of the twenty sixth due to an audit that was somehow allowed under an ancient treaty and obscure law. Only Lord Potter, under that law, would be able to lift the audit before they were done and as he never wanted Harry to be aware of a Lord Potter let alone become it he was stuck until the time period had elapsed.

In the same vein, for the first time in almost fifteen years, he was forced to move back into the cramped quarters off of the Headmasters Office. In all fairness they weren't that cramped but, compared to the picturesque Potter Summer Retreat that just so happened to be located in a private warded beach in Nice on the French Riviera, it was little more than a box room.

Irregularities indeed, thought Albus dismissively, it's not like Harry would need either his money or his property after Voldemort died and I could put it to so many better uses. For the Greater Good of the Wizarding World of course.

It helped his case that, by tradition, if any orphans died while at Hogwarts it fell to the Headmaster to distribute their assets. The fact that no orphans had died in over a century was besides the point as was the fact that, by and large, all of the orphans had been muggleborn or from Lesser Houses. Not a single one had ever been numbered among the Ancient and Noble Houses as they tended to have guardians set up in case of such contingencies as Dumbledore was Harry's though illegally. There hadn't even been recognised Ancient and Noble Houses when the law was first introduced but that didn't change the legitimacy of the law and it give him a stronger case to do what he wanted.

The Wizengamot loved tradition after all.

The hypocrisy of him decrying the Goblin Nation using an obscure law against him while he did the same to Harry was completely lost on him. In his mind when he did it his actions were justified under the umbrella of the Greater Good and saving the Wizarding World while the Goblins were just being petty and vindictive.

What annoyed him the most, aside from having to pay Ron Weasley out of his own money and not to mention that the Order of the Phoenix was without its main money source, was that he couldn't access the majority of his personal items. They were now in properties that he couldn't get to and, he assumed wrongly, elves under the employ of the Goblins (or their agents) had closed or taken all property that was for the moment still Harry Potters.

In reality it was Dobby, ever eager to anticipate the needs of his hopefully future Master, who had either moved the items and closed the properties or asked other elves that he had met on his travels to do so.

All of this led Dumbledore to open a bottle of Firewhiskey and slowly sip it from a thick glass as he imagined how he would rectify his problems once he inevitably had Harry Potter back under his control. He was stuck until the twenty sixth and he planned to make the goblins pay for the _indignity_ of the wait.

He didn't know it then but, by the time that day rolled around, it would be far too late.

Luna Lovegood

Luna was sitting in 'her' room in Bluestone in a quandary about the course her life was taking.

It had only been a few days here and yet she could already feel the difference in herself. Harry had been true to his word to help her and, after both searching his memories for Jedi techniques as well as consulting the finest theoretical Masters that Gringotts could put him in touch with, had begun her treatment with vigor.

Her mind already felt clear, her wits sharper, and it was almost as if she could hear a sound that wasn't actually there. A comforting and warm embrace that, when she confided her thoughts to Harry, was apparently the Force slowly entering her conscious mind after being denied for so very long.

Though she would never lose the memory of the visions that she had already experienced through her magic she was already sure that she would suffer no more from her magic. That didn't discount getting some from the Force although these she could hopefully forget if necessary.

It shocked her that not only were the Goblins bending over backwards to help Harry but, thanks to his impressive wealth, all of these people that he had been put in touch with were willing and even eager to help check his ideas for a solution to her problem though they weren't told all of the details for security reasons.

Her dilemma was not so much that but, rather, the thing she had privately feared was now a fact. She realised, even this early, that she was losing her ability to see the creatures that had been with her and had been a comfort to her for so long. As the treatment was still ongoing she could ask him to stop and, all agreed, she would slowly return to how she was before.

That idea presented a problem all of its own however and, as is normal in life, there were no easy answers to it.

She and Harry had spent a great deal of time together, both before and after he had gone through the Veil, and although she knew that he had changed a great deal she felt that at his core he was still the same kind hearted boy that went out of his way to help and befriend her.

How could she not love him for that act alone? She thought and admitted to herself then and there that she did. To deny it would be as futile as denying the tide that came in every single day.

She was unsure however, at that moment, whether that actually mattered though. She did not know if he would end up a very good friend or if they would turn out to be more than that as she was still trying to wrap her head around all the changes that Harry had gone through and her own changes didn't help make it that much clearer for her at the moment.

They hadn't spent the night in the same room again since that first time both understanding that with everything going on it wouldn't help matters so much as it would further muddy the waters between them. She did know that Harry would always be an important part of her life however and that feeling was more than magic, more than the Force, she knew it deep in her bones.

When she had admitted that to herself it did help make things clearer to her if only slightly and it felt like, with the conflict between magic and Force in her system slowly dissipating, some very large and free roaming cotton balls were being removed from her head for the first time and she could slowly begin to think with true clarity.

She knew that if she asked him to stop he would not judge her rather he would simply accept her choice as he always did and that was, paradoxically, the very reason that she couldn't ask him to stop.

She knew that a threat was coming, even to her nascent senses it was a shadow on the horizon of her life, and that Harry would be in the thick of it as he always was. She also knew that if she followed her friend without full access to her abilities she would either not be able to keep up with him or would be relegated to a supporting role. She could even end up as a hindrance to him rather than a help.

That would not do, she thought, I will not allow Harry to take such risks by himself not when I can help him and hopefully protect him.

Staring out of her window her face began to slowly set into a resolute expression. She would learn the Force from Harry and learn as much magic from as many sources as she was able to. Come hell or high water she decided that she would stand beside Harry, no matter what their relationship ended up being, as she would not allow herself to fail her friend.

Not now, she silently promised herself, not ever. I will never abandon Harry to face the dark alone.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22: First Blood

 _A/N: it's my birthday on the 25th and I'm moving by the 8th so the next chapter might be a little late...depending on the surprise my wife has planned... also as a belated birthday present to me does anyone want to do me favourand re-edit the first 5-7 chapters. PM me if yes... I wouldn't ask but things are busy hereand I don't know if or when I'll get round to it. Cheers GC_

25th of June 2000

A week later Harry had kept true to his word and either spent his time gathering and bleeding her Seer's gift into the minor ley line that ran under Bluestone or beginning to teach her the basics of the Force. In the few moments that he had free he either read up on more magic with Luna sitting quietly near him or talking with her about everything and anything. It was a peaceful moment, the calm before the storm, and from his perspective he intended to enjoy it as much as he could.

To Luna's perspective the time went both badly and very well.

It went badly because, over the course of the week, she had begun to lose the ability to see her creatures to such an extent that, where they were once vivid in her mind, they were now only faint outlines and shadows of what they used to be. Still though this was bad, even heartbreaking to her, she had expected it, although she did wish that it hadn't happened she still understood that it was necessary.

On the plus side for her Harry had lent her (after turning down the power settings) his silver hilted sapphire blade to begin to learn the most basic of the lightsaber movements and she was progressing very well according to Harry.

It was more than that to her though, she knew, as it was almost like she had been half asleep all this time and only now had she just begun to wake up. The Force and magic sang in her blood even as she moved through the basic repetitions of lightsaber combat she often felt her mind quieten under the repetitive swings and slashes she could feel both gifts throughout her very body and even her very soul.

When she confessed this feeling to Harry he had surprised her by admitting that the Force did not feel as close to him as his magic did. He had reassured her by saying that the difference in feeling between the two was negligible and probably had something to do with the fact that his Force affinity, though stronger than hers, was not a natural thing.

Her basic training did differ from Harry's in one significant way however due to the fact that when he was introduced to the Force he had learned the Dark Side first under the Sith's corrupt tutelage. Both she and Harry agreed that, although the knowledge was dangerous, willingly limiting yourself to one side or the other was simply too restricting. Far better, they reasoned, to take the approach of the Je'daii of old.

That being said the dangers were very real and though he had learnt the Dark Side first it was their joint decision that she (and any student that may eventually follow afterwards) would start at the very least with a very basic grounding knowledge of the Light Side before they began to battle the temptation and dark quagmire that was the other side of the Force.

Today was the day, thought Harry, that everything will change.

It started that morning with the goblins entering Bluestone in small groups and, as they passed him, they gave him smiles (or at least the goblin equivalent) and sometimes a small wave but otherwise didn't speak. They knew what was about to happen so no words were necessary and some had even waited many years for this very day.

At the same time Gringotts British branches management was handed over to a skeleton crew of French goblins until the end of the business day. Once these goblins were done with the final business of the day the branch would become a hive of activity as it closed for the last time. All spare goblins within the range of a portkey (which were quite a few) would painstakingly move all of the fortunes of Wizarding Britain into similar Vaults in France.

The goblins that had once run the branch would become the very first colonists of any sort, though hopefully not the last, to move to and fully settle on Fide making the planet their home. To that end each goblin carried one backpack of personal items and, included in their ship, would be samples of all the foodstuffs that they normally grew as well as a complete copy of their history as a clan of Gringotts.

This was the deal that Harry had worked out with them so very long ago.

With the repressive nature of the European Ministries (though Britain was the worst) the Nation was experiencing diminishing returns from their original treaty which was a big factor in them deciding to agree. There was also the fact that, at their core, each new treaty amendment (that was often followed by a 'Goblin Rebellion') that was proposed and backed, at least in theory, by the full might of the I.C.W meant that they were slowly completely losing the freedom that they as a people so longed for.

That was not to say that Harry's offer was either unconditional or completely satisfactory to the goblins but, compared to their treatment by the European Ministries, it was more than fair and (more importantly to them) left them room to grow as a people. More than that they would get a voice in the new government that was forming around the terraformed or claimed planets and get to experiment with, within reason, new materials and substances that they hadn't heard of before.

The final reason for them to agree was that they had their own Seers that not only enabled the Nation to determine that the offer was both genuine and beneficial but also foretold many battles in Harry's future. If there was one thing that the Goblin Nation had missed when they had begun to be bankers, aside from Goblin Rebellions of course, it was the desire to prove themselves in battle. According to their Seers Harry was to be part of a battle that was far far larger and further reaching than any that they had ever been a part of and the idea of that stirred their blood on a deep instinctual level.

They were more than eager to be a part of that, though they did not allow that eagerness to show in their negotiations as, even though they were only bankers by treaty, it was the goblins desire to be the best at whatever they turned their hand to that made them so effective as well as their general love of precious metals that made them so good. They had little desire to be bankers beyond that and their famous skill at both contracts and investment were more of a by product rather than a calling.

They were effective more because they approached anything they did with the same ruthlessness that they would have approached warfare.

On Fide although they would be bankers they wouldn't be the only ones and could truly be warriors again and test their skills against worthy opponents. The fact that they would be bankers didn't bother them all that much as they, in the main, viewed it almost as a service teaching others how to do the job properly so they eventually didn't have to. That was not to say there weren't goblins who enjoyed banking, they were as diverse as any other species after all, merely that they were a very small minority.

Then the 'New' Elves started to appear.

Harry wasn't sure what to call them as they themselves hadn't picked a name yet but they too quickly ushered themselves to the waiting ships that were designed almost as carbon copies of the _Homeward Bound_ being modified Dynamic class freighters with inbuilt stealth and cloaking systems.

Their exodus from Wizarding Britain would have probably caused a much greater fuss if they still looked like House Elves. Thankfully they did not and all it took was a hooded cloak over their tall forms for the oblivious wizards to basically ignore them.

Harry couldn't help but take a moment to wonder if what they looked like now was anything like what they had looked like before whatever cataclysm that had happened that caused them to need wizard magic to survive.

After all, long before the _Lord of the Rings_ was written, there were legends of the tall, graceful and beautiful elves especially among the Norse. Harry even remembered that, when he had first met the creatures, he had been disappointed that their forms were so different from his idea of elves based on literature.

There were no easy answers to why they were the way they appeared now as, he knew, though it could have been their natural form from before, Ritual Magic was very tricky and fluid as it heavily depended on the desire and intent of the caster. In the end it was just as likely that it was a wholly new form, their original remade or simply Harry's subconscious that reformed their bodies in such a fashion.

I doubt, Harry thought, that any elf will tell me just because they have new bodies that free them from being reliant on wizards and the fact that I am curious if they know at all.

Dobby popped in at that moment and interrupted his thoughts as he was now ready to lead his people to their new home in New Atlantis which they would be sharing with the humans that had already settled there.

The elves new forms had them no longer diminutive but rather topping six feet with an average of six foot four for the males and just under six foot for the females. Their ears were now almost completely human looking with only the hint of a pointed tip and their hair was now long, down to their shoulders, and generally brown or blond with the occasional black headed elf added to the mix. Their faces, once slightly odd and even pitiable in Harry's eyes, were now beautiful to behold with their main eye colours being purple, blue or a light amber. They were still very slender and, as hoped, still retained their ability to pop like the House Elves they once were. This though was almost an echo, a memory, of what they were rather than any real connection to any magic that they might have left.

Dobby himself was an exception for his transformed race (possibly because he was the first or something to do with Harry's blood) in that he topped almost six foot eight and, while he had long dark brown hair, he had silver eyes rather than the other more common colours that Harry had seen from the rest of his race. The face that greeted him may have been new to Harry but the expression it held was pure Dobby in that it was still open, honest and friendly.

"Dobby?" Harry asked, uncertain still with all the changes despite his facial expression what reception he would receive from his old friend.

"Hello my friend" Even Dobby's voice had changed and not just the vocabulary as it was now like captured musical notes in it's tone and, like everything else these New Elves had, was beautiful to him.

"You've changed more than I thought" Harry observed "even your grasp of the English Language is better".

"An unintended side effect of the change I am sure. Some do miss our old way of speaking as it, among other things, defined who and what we were for so long… but at least I can talk to you in full and proper sentences now" Dobby answered with a smile.

"So...no hard feelings Dobby?" Harry asked rather quietly and with no small amount of trepidation.

"No. Although our bond may now be broken I did partially bond with you when I chose to protect you from my former master. Though it was never fully completed I did get flashes of what you planned once you returned as well as your fear for my brothers and sisters. I know you felt like you had no choice and, though the insight from the bond faded when it did, I still remember my own surety and conviction that it was the right thing to do. The guilt you felt then, and now most likely, is unnecessary".

"So you are going with your people then?" asked Harry changing the subject and ignoring the subject of guilt.

Harry was sad but in all honesty not all that surprised as Dobby, being the agent of the Great Change to them, would either be seen as a horror or a hero. Harry was only glad it was the latter and logically his own people did need him more than Harry at the moment.

"Yes" replied Dobby earnestly "I would like to stay with you but I can't. My people are still discovering what this new existence means as well as being free. Including children there are almost six thousand of us and, even with your magically expanded ships, it will take several trips to move all my people and I can't leave them".

"And I would never ask you to my friend" Harry said quickly understanding that he couldn't ask his friend for more and to do so would cause him pain as he was inevitably refused.

"We did decide on one thing though" Harry's eyebrows rose in interest " as we are not bound any longer we decided that we should have last names both because it was time and to set ourselves apart. Mine is Silver" Dobby's voice turned small and vulnerable "Do you like it?".

"I think" Harry said slowly and in a warm voice while smiling "that I will enjoy having Mr Silver as my friend as much as I always have...maybe even more" Dobbys response surprised Harry as he moved forward and then slowly engulfed him in a hug before stepping back and looking at his friend once again.

"It's all coming to a head now isn't it?" Asked Dobby shrewdly.

"Yes" replied Harry darkly "it is. I'm not sure how far I should go though".

Harry had enough guilt weighing on him and he was wary off adding more if he could avoid it and Dobby could see that conflict, that fear, on his friends face. Often Harry had to wear a mask of confidence and surety to act but now Dobby saw part of the conflict that his friend must have gone through many times before now.

Given that Dobby thought about his response for a long moment and slowly came to a decision on what he was going to say to his friend about his choices.

"All life, all magic, is about balance. Every single House Elf not only knows this without being told as they feel it with every breath they have. The people of the Wizarding World have forgotten this lesson for far too long and, far from being free of it, the debt that they incur by ignoring that fact only increases. It is compounded by every generation that dismisses it and rather than it being excused their world is further thrown out of harmony".

"You have grown very eloquent in your time away" interrupted Harry causing Dobby to blush.

"House Elves could always think. Long ago the wizards stopped listening to us and then ordered us to never share our unsolicited thoughts on pain of death for us and our children. They did this so often that, I'm afraid, it became as ingrained on our character as our dependence on magic and our speech though the last was their idea as well. They did not want servants that were smarter than them (at least at some points) or that warned them of a doom that they believed would never come".

"I'm shocked" harry said with a healthy dose of sarcasm lacing his voice.

"Quite" chucked Dobby "still my point is simple. You recognize the balance of life and, with all that you have suffered, deserve a little happiness. When the two chessmasters and the Wizarding World realise that you won't play by their arbitrary rules, nothing else will matter to them except forcing you to. Not your hopes, not your dreams or your free will as they will have it their way no matter the cost. They don't even respect the Universes balance of life and magic and so they will never stop trying to force their desires upon you. Anything that happens to them, any of them, because of this is a debt or ignoring other responsibilities that are overdue for payment is their fault not yours. Strike hard, strike fast and leave confusion in your wake. Not only might you get a little happiness in the end but you might actually live long enough to teach some of us about this new power of ours".

"I'd be happy to" replied Harry "when did you get so philosophical?"

"I am 384 years old" Dobby shrugged clearly amused "maybe it's my midlife crisis setting in? Besides I am bound by oath to be truthful, enforced by magic or not, we intend to keep our oaths, all elves do. We also do listen, we have always listened, and I truly believe that under these circumstances my people will enjoy being free".

Harry walked his friend to his ship, the last to leave in the first wave, as the next ship to arrive would be the newly restored and refitted _Patience_ that would be ready to leave whenever Harry was and he couldn't help but ask one more question.

"How can you tell if I am in balance?" he asked.

"I can't...not now anyway. House Elves can though and it is something that they always know as it is as easy for them to know that as it is for you to look up and tell the colour of the sky. Why do you think so many of us trusted you and turned up at Bluestone in the first place?".

"I almost wish that you were here to watch their reaction as the Wizarding World awakens to the knowledge that 85% of the House Elves of Britain have up and vanished without a trace".

"So do I. Do me a favour? Give the Malfoy's hell would you?" requested Dobby.

"If I can. I'd do anything for you my friend" was Harry's honest and heartfelt response.

"I'm counting on it Harry".

With that Dobby boarded his ship and left, swiftly disappearing as the ship rippled and became undetectable to sight and earth's machines due to its cloak, and Harry looked towards where he knew it once was and couldn't help but wish his friend well.

Before Harry could do anything, say anything else or return to training Luna he staggered into the wall as soon as his friend had left his line of sight as a minor vision from the Force struck him and, even as it swept over him, he couldn't help a rueful thought.

Why me, he thought, many Jedi go their entire lives without a single vision and I seem to keep getting them.

"Luna?!" Harry called and at the worry in his voice she came running.

"Yes Harry?" She asked with her cheeks flushed and, Harry noticed somewhat guilty, her chest covered in sweat and heaving from both her workout and running into the room.

"I have to go. Keep practicing your exercises until I return". He tried not to order her, or be unduly harsh, but the power of the vision made his head ache and his voice strained.

"How long will you be?" She asked concerned at the seriousness that she saw written all over Harry's face.

"I shouldn't be more than a few hours" he said. While doing this he had made sure that his armour was on, his bracer ready and and his Sorosuub, loaded with darts in it's launcher, was strapped to his leg at his side, and both his ebony wand was in a holster on the underside of his right wrist and his ring on his left hand middle finger.

Sensing that perhaps this was something both important and time sensitive Luna held in the questions that she clearly wanted to ask.

Instead she simply moved forward and lightly hugged Harry as softly as she could. In those few moments they didn't express their undying love for each other, the relationship was too complex and currently too ill defined for such a loaded declaration, but each did simply take comfort in the presence of the other. Given what he knew about what was about to happen (and the risks involved) Harry took solace in that and used it to strengthen himself for what was coming.

"I'll make lunch for us both for when you return" she said with a surety that reinforced the idea that he was going to come home safe and sound. He fully intended for that hope to be realised and to enjoy a relaxing lunch with Luna especially as he had no idea if his blood bags would work from halfway across a galaxy and even less inclination to find out.

Stepping back he composed himself and placed his old mask on his face. With a small nod he popped away until the only sound in the house was Luna beginning to make lunch and humming to herself while unsuccessfully trying to keep her thoughts on her task and away from wherever Harry went because when she thought about it she sensed only darkness.

To Harry's mage sight the island before him was a blight to magic pulsing like an black angry blister on the world. The seven different ley lines that fed the island were almost like seven great rivers of pure white with rainbow flecks falling into a massive open plug hole with the great abyss of nothingness at the center swallowing all the power both greedily and endlessly

This was the island of Azkaban and, what later would be called, Azkaban Prison.

Like what had happened to the House Elves in the distant past the rumours and legends swirled around the island like so much thick obscuring smoke so that no one was certain how the island was formed in the first place. The Goblin Nation most likely knew at one point, as their civilization was experimenting with the printed word when humans were first slinking out of their caves, but as they had next to nothing to do with the island they had never recorded it.

It would have been like a cowboy describing a horse or a man describing the light that shines from the stars in that it would be intellectually interesting but ultimately pointless and goblins were not known for ever, in their long history, recording anything that was trivial to them.

The Wizarding World had many ideas and dark legends about how the island and the Dementors had come into being. The most popular and the most widely accepted had to do with the fall of Atlantis and the dark times that had followed for the early survivors of that cataclysm.

After Atlantis had fallen beneath the waves, so the story went, the few wizards and witches that had caused the fall and somehow managed to survive were imprisoned there only after being cursed by the last, and greatest, king as he died. So great was he, this unnamed king, that it was believed that his grasp of magic would dwarf that of Merlin himself. No story recounted what happened to the very few, if any, innocent Magi of Atlantis that managed to escape.

There they stayed, not physically held but marooned on the dark isle until they died. Then, long after that, came Ekrizdis (mad wizard that he was) who had created his fortress out of the very bones of the land on the island. After he had done so it was believed that he had tried to resurrect the long dead and cursed Atlanteans and in that way the Dementors were born into their tortured existence.

Whether it was the mad wizards intent to create them or the curse of the last King of Atlantis remained both unclear and a subject of much debate among what passed for wizarding scholars. What was agreed on by all was that these things were once wizards who had either been reborn or reanimated in the darkest of ways and had only one thing on their mind in this new and agonising existence.

Their hunger was a deep and unending. Their need for human souls was a fire that never could be quenched and so they roamed unsatisfied and in constant pain. They were supervised by a Warden who, like most wizards, took the easy way and not only didn't reside on the island but only visited once a month accompanied by a squad of nervous Aurors.

Though the Ministry had plans to replace the Dementors stewardship of the island and their purpose as the primary jailers of the worst of their society, aside from not knowing where to move the Dementors, they had not yet done so for two understandable (yet to Harry's mind at least) inexcusable reasons.

The first was that the Ministry had been corrupt for far far too long, perhaps since the adoption of the Statue of Secrecy, and they tended to run on bribes wherever possible. So, even though it was a security risk, the people that could have enforced a change had other things to do which kept bumping down the issue on their own personal lists of things to do which of course meant it moved down the order of Ministry business as well.

After all to their minds, if someone asked them to do something with a healthy 'donation' they were of course given immediate service as that was part and parcel of the privilege.

The second was also monetary, but had little to do with bribes, simply put the Dementors never needed paying and therefore aside from the Warden and a rotating squad of Aurors that guarded him and delivered inmates as well as food no funds were required to be set aside for the running of the prison.

Worse for the corrupt officials of the present era there was _supposed_ to be a slush fund set aside for the payment of guards and the maintenance of the prison but, as it turned out, at some point after its inception the majority of that money had been diverted to some influential and 'proper' families every month for an appropriate fee.

The Ministry was trying its hardest to stop that particular fact (and the massive scandal that would ensue) from coming out for as long as possible and were therefore actively avoiding discussing the issue for as long as possible especially as the Ministry was effectively an oligarchy that had some of those same families still in power.

This meant that as soon as Harry appeared on the corner of the island, on the edge of its cliffs, he began to feel the debilitating effects of the Dementors almost immediately and although he no longer had an extra piece of Voldemort's soul in his scar, which of course had made him a much more appetizing meal to the Dementors, he was still free and outside of the specifically warded (the wards composition was another thing lost to time) cages that kept them from feasting on their prisoners.

In effect he was a veritable buffet to a starving man and all of the dark creatures on Azkaban were already converging on him with the need to be first as there would not, could not, be any sharing. Whatever the truth of their creation they were now need driven creatures that were wholly and utterly twisted by the dark energies that both maintained and consumed them.

When the first arrived, ahead of a swarm of others (with the speed that they were travelling it was impossible to get an accurate number), Harry tried to push it back with the Force to no effect. He then quickly summoned Prongs which at his wordless command managed to canter in a slow circle around him and kept both the debilitating effects and the lone Dementor away for the moment.

Harry knew that it had next to no chance at keeping the horde away though and cursed inwardly that one of the few runic schemes that he had been unable to learn was the one that kept the Dementors at bay.

It seemed that they were another brainchild of the late and unlamented Ekrizdis and no one, especially Harry, had ever been suicidal enough or keen enough to move the temperamental beasts into their own homes to try and study exactly what made the wards work so they could be recreated or find other ways to stop them.

For one thing most wizards wouldn't even try because, frankly, they were lazy. They had the patronus and it had worked well for centuries and so like all good traditionalists they had looked no further. Added to that even for Harry dying was one thing, a large and inconvenient gamble as his blood bag was in stasis halfway across the Galaxy, but losing your soul was another matter entirely.

So, even as his ring summoned his patronus he drew his black hilted viridian blade as an added form of protection even as he thought about what he might do.

The problem with Dementors, Harry thought, is that the dark magic that made (or cursed) the fucking leeches protects them from every physical attack anyone has ever thrown at them. Although my blade is made of plasma (and it was one of the five fundamental states of matter according to some of the Department of Mysteries published papers with the fifth being magic) so it should help me do some damage it'll still be next to useless in trying to fend off the horde. Life is about balance after all... that's what Dobby said... and if they are immune to physical attacks and mostly immune to magical ones it stands to reason that they would be weak to another fundamental force. If not then I'm in for a world of hurt… at best.

Similarly his patronus, Harry knew, while able to corral a good amount of them under good conditions could not conceivably protect him from all angles and there had _never_ been a single instance of any one wizard casting multiple patroni at any one time. Added to that they only drove Dementors away temporarily and even if he could drive them all away its effects would most likely be diluted and exhaust him for no reason as they could be right back at him as soon as it faded.

Thanks to the makeup of Azkaban his magic felt slow and sluggish almost as if it was half asleep and it felt like he was trying to wake it up from a comatose state even before the Dementors got close to him.

There was hope though, Harry concluded, even as the lone Dementor circled around Prongs. There was a much more common and useful form of plasma that was known to have a detrimental effect on some spirits and it gave him an idea.

It was stupid and reckless to be testing it out under these circumstances but he was aware that certain almost intangible creatures that were borderline dark, like Poltergeists such as Peeves, were susceptible to certain energy disruptions.

The more readily available form of plasma, the thing that disrupted them and did so badly, was lightning. Although this was a known weakness for Poltergeists it did not kill them rather it just disrupted their physical forms for a time though it could be weeks, even years, before they managed to reform themselves.

Ghosts were different as they were an imprint and, much more than a moving painting, were almost a literal echo of the person that they once were. They however were much more susceptible to magic and there was a whole branch of magic dedicated to dealing with unruly spirits of that type. Still Ghosts were rarely an issue as they, unlike Poltergeists, couldn't actually touch anything though both could interact in other ways such as speech.

Harry was betting that Dementors had more in common with Poltergeists than Ghosts as he began to summon as much Force Lightning as he could without losing himself to the seductive nature of the Dark Side. The unique makeup of his phoenix tear enhanced blood helped in this endeavor greatly increasing his physical resistance to the damaging effects of the Dark Side of the Force.

Harry would normally be wary of using too much even given its nature but considering the twisted nature of his enemies it was far too simple, even _easy_ , for him to summon a great deal of hatred for them. That did not mean that the constant accumulation of energy was not causing portions of his hands and arms to crack, blister and break open due to the effects of so much lightning (it caused him so much pain that he had to bite his lip to keep from screaming in fact) more that his body was healing as quickly as it was damaged.

It also seemed to strike some primal half buried fear in the prowling Dementor as, regardless of the protective nature of Prongs, it recklessly charged as soon as the smallest gap appeared in its defensive circuit around him.

Stepping to one side and carefully maintaining his lightning for the horde with one hand as he waited for them to get closer for maximum effect was not easy but he managed it. With his now free hand he activated and swiftly thrust his lightsaber into the middle of the charging Dementors chest.

The blade of pure plasma pierced cleanly through the entirety of the things chest and Harry heard something then that, as far as he was aware, no one had ever heard before. The noise that rushed out from under the things hood was nothing short of bone chilling agony and its screech would ring in his nightmares for years.

Its long arms lunged forward with its pale hands and long dark claw like nails reaching for the hilt of the weapon that currently was impaled within it. From underneath the hood the screeching increased to such an intensity that it almost made Harry's ears bleed and, between on heartbeat and the next, the wound that he caused with his blade began to hiss black smoke as the Dementor began to seemingly turn into black sand.

Still he managed, if only barely, to keep building the Force Lightning in his hand.

Barely a second later that was all that remained of it. Harry then turned to the baleful dark cloaked mass and the almost physical sense of wrongness, hatred and hunger that they exuded into the cold air.

He couldn't help but wonder then if the stories were true. Back in Atlantis, it was said, magic was naturally more like wet clay ready to be molded and shaped by the people of that doomed island. They had, after all, created the Veela and attempted to turn their first creation the Centaurs to minding the future for them. Who knew what else they had created back then or what they might have created if Atlantis had not been destroyed by their own arrogance and folly.

All of the time the lightning that he continually summoned was growing almost like a living thing and it reached from his ring hand up to his neck across his broad chest and down to the tip of his lightsaber on the other side. It snarled outward like some great angry animal lashing its fury deep into the cold air. When the approaching swarm was close enough he unleashed it upon them like the myths of Zeus in his fury.

The lightning that he summoned, despite the damage to him, almost seemed to arch playfully over his flesh was released in a ever widening stream of fury and was the embodiment of his denial of their power and his disgust at their very existence. The closed fist that directed it was his gauntlet thrown down against them, against the dark manipulations that had plagued his life, and the scream that came from his mouth as it moved was both gut wrenching and a verbal assault against the dark oblivion that came for him.

The swarm seemed to shudder like a great wounded beast under the relentless assault even as Harry began to feel his hatred being purged as it traveled along with the lightning towards its target. The swarm seemed to buckle under the strain of the attack. As Harry had hoped the lightning seemed to destroy a fair few of them as the air around Harry suddenly became thick with the black dust that made up their remains.

Strangely, rather than feel disgusted, Harry felt more and more purged by the second. He felt cleaner as he expelled the great hatred that he had felt (and had grown) unknowingly for as long as he had realised that he was being manipulated. Still he poured more of the lightning, more of his darkness, into them, being more determined now more than ever to see them end.

Far from being deterred by the death of their fellows however this act seemed to enrage the Dementors and make them more than a little reckless. Their speed of approach increased at the cost of scores and scores of their evil bretherns lives.

Harry himself was feeling the strain as well both physically and mentally. The mental effects for him were the worst however as to control the Sith Lightning and keep his Patronus required both intense focus and an old Je'daii technique combined with the judicious use of occlumency to keep both emotionally charged (not to mention polar opposite) attacks running. On top of that the seductive siren song of the Dark Side was only growing in his head as he kept the lightning going and he knew the delicate balance could not be held for long.

It was effectively like Harry had compartmentalised his brain into two separate sections and while one fed the hatred inspired lightning that destroyed the Dementors the other ran on every single good thought or memory that he could dredge up to empower Prongs. Even for someone of Harry's unique circumstances and abilities this was beyond taxing and, if he maintained it too long, his body might fail or have a stroke and he could very well die on the shore with the cliffs of Azkaban behind him.

Allowing both Prongs and, the admittedly effective, lightning to falter as he realised that he needed to conserve his strength he reinforced his mental shields so he could better withstand the mental effects of the Dementors aura he readied himself for the remaining creatures onslaught.

As the Dementors moved in to contain what they assumed was a weakened and easy meal Harry was unsure if the creatures could feel surprise. If the twisted things could however he was sure that they did when he moved, as fast as the Force would allow him, to confront them. Harry, far from being the weakened and despondent prey that they were expecting, was like quicksilver and the barest stouches of ligning played in his otherwise empty fist even as his lightsaber hummed dangerously in the other.

He lept high, assisted by the Force, over the frontrunners and, though not an Ataru master by any stretch of the imagination, was easily able to use that to blast streams of lightning into them even as he twisted in mid air.

It only got worse for the Dementors as, when he landed, his ring hand that was coated in lightning slapped the ground at his feet from his now crouched position. The lightning splayed outwards and destroyed many who, overcome by their natures and the apparent vulnerability of his crouched position, had landed and moved in swiftly ready to fight for their food.

Then he was among them brutally utilizing both the small amount of Force Lightning left around his fist and the powerful blows from his sabre using his preferred Form V (Djem So) to cut vicious and powerful blows into his enemies.

Harry quickly learned, to his cost, that if he impaled a Dementor with his lightsaber in the torso they either took too long to die or were dealt grievous wounds that were somehow healed almost as quickly as he made them. He found himself being forced to withdraw more often that not as the sheer weight of numbers pushed him back.

Thankfully he soon learned that this rapid healing didn't apply to him removing their heads from their bodies or bisecting them right down the middle and began to adjust his attacks accordingly.

Thankfully for this period of adaptation his Force enhanced punches that were still wrapped in lightning did not suffer from the same issue. Not only did the strength of them cause them to go through the Dementors incredibly weak flesh like a hot knife through butter but, once the lightning had either overwhelmed or bypassed the cursed flesh, it seemed to hungrily and even eagerly eat them much more quickly than they could react let alone heal.

Still, despite his successes, he felt the sharp nails of their cursed hands rake both his armour and flesh deeply. He could feel that, enhanced regeneration or not, the dark wounds would take a long while to heal not only because they were deep but because they were cursed. They also bled much more than they should and each nick or cut burned as if they were on fire and were wounds three times their size.

Although the debilitating aura of the creatures stopped him from apparating around them to further maximise the damage that he could inflict, not to mention the wards against both that and portkeys that activated at the first moment of violence or magic, at length even the Dementors realised that they would most likely lose and self preservation kicked in.

As to why the wards kicked in only when they did the thinking was simple. Why ward the island to stop people both arriving and leaving when it was far more expedient to simply do the latter and leave the former until after they arrived and allow the natural tendencies of the Dementors to deal with any interlopers.

They began to flee first one by one and then in a rush as they began to flee from a bruised, bleeding and battered Harry Potter.

Summoning strength from somewhere that not even Harry himself knew, especially given the state of his magic in this place as every second he felt it trickling into the void, he summoned Prongs once again and herded the fleeing Dementors back towards him. Prong cantered back and forth in the air forcing ever decreasing waves back towards him until finally there were no more left as he had met them with both his lightsaber and lightning wrapped fist.

Every single one of the terrors that were called the Dementors of Azkaban were destroyed.

As far as Harry was aware this now made the species extinct and as much as he had wanted and could have used help none one he knew could have combated them half as effectively as he could himself. The only one that came close was Luna, given her unique gifts, but she was far from ready for a confrontation of this magnitude.

He had originally planned to send for a full battalion of droids from Spero, not that he was sure their weapons would work, but in his absence there had been an increasing amount of pirate attacks. It was not that they were a threat given the multitude of droids that he had but it did pull away resources to guard his systems that he could otherwise use.

His small grouping of planets had grown in his absence and though, at the moment, he had never visited these new worlds and they weren't yet adapted to magic they were his and deserved his protection. Spero was of course the only one with a Geo Forge as though it could copy itself the risk of misuse was high. There were now twelve other systems in his still somewhat informal alliance which totaled eighteen planets in all and also lent some urgency to finishing up here.

After all, despite the best efforts of Droid Hermione, some things like the possibility of forming a government to maintain it all should really have his personal attention given that it now involved the life of at least a few million rather than ten or fifteen thousand in the Wizarding World.

Those facts, combined with the immediacy felt within the vision he received ment he was doing this by himself.

So instead of being protected by a horde of Droids he was standing alone on a now Dementor free Azkaban and desperately trying not to think about what all the black dust in the air was made of or how much of it was in his hair, ingrained in his skin, in his wounds and most likely in his lungs.

He knew that his greatest test today was yet to come.

His lightsaber closed down as he fell to his knees and he slowly closed his eyes for a time, lightly meditating, to try and restore himself as quickly as possible. He felt the Force, uninhibited by the dark isle, fill and soothe him almost immediately.

Despite all of dark miasma in the air he felt cleansed. All of the anger that he felt was still there of course but, now that he had given it an outlet, it no longer weighed on him and he felt like he could breathe and see clearly for now.

Still, Harry thought, this is not why I came here though it was a good day's work if I do say so myself.

Then the Portkey wards were suddenly torn apart like so much confetti even as Harry rose to his feet. It was not however his doing.

Voldemort and three of his Death Eaters appeared and no doubt were intending to free their compatriots and to enlist the terrifying weapon that was the Dementors into their army as well. To say that they were shocked to feel not a single iota of their presence in their minds was the understatement of the decade (if not the century). Though of course they barely bothered Voldemort himself given the fractured nature of his soul.

The vision that he had been 'gifted' with had come true as Voldemort moved forward with three of his masked Death Eater morons ready to complete their mission, only to immediately be wary given the circumstances, and to almost straight away be faced with a masked man covered in a dark gritty sand. They couldn't actually tell that the man behind the mask was Harry Potter as, apart from the changes in his body and the dust that covered him, he was covered by both battered armour and, of course, the mask that obscured his face.

Although Voldemort had managed to smuggle out two of his most trusted for an important mission, thanks to the Dementors, and as much as Bellatrix and Rookwood would help he needed them all and even the inept Ministry would notice if all the marked Death Eaters and sympathisers disappeared. They would certainly notice the already missing pair if he didn't act soon.

"Who are you?" Demanded Voldemort in his mocking sibilant voice with his red eyes glaring at the unknown masked man.

Harry didn't reply but instead smiled behind his mask as he quickly thought through his options.

The problems that he had were obvious as he was both injured and bleeding (though not too badly despite how it felt) while his opponents were both fresh and uninjured. More than that, at his best, Harry was only marginally more magically powerful than Voldemort and he was not at his best by a fair stretch.

On the plus side of the equation all of the Death Eaters were, like most purebloods, magically weak compared to normal wizards let alone him, even in his battered state, and not only did the nature of the island make magic in general weaker and some spells weaker but, as a mixed bag, it meant the dark magic that worked tended to be both stronger and easier to cast.

Harry spun on the spot casting Spears of Agony towards the three Death Eaters and one towards Voldemort. The four spears that flew towards his enemies were as dark as midnight and were so named because they not only caused cursed slow healing wounds but also inflicted agonising pain in the mind of the target until the wound was sealed.

Voldemort of course moved as did two of his Death Eaters (though with less speed of course) and, less than half a second later, they were very grateful that they did so as the final Death Eater tried to shield probably confident that his magic would protect him even as their masks had always protected them from prosecution (with a little bribery thrown in).

The paper thin magical shield that he produced (and it was a fair bet the Death Eater was male by his grunt of pain) had been no protection for the pureblood terrorist as the spear had barreled right through it as if it didn't exist and pierced the unfortunate man high in his shoulder. Blood had spurted instantly even as the man began to scream like a wild animal unnerving the remaining Death Eaters.

As Harry moved with enhanced speed towards his enemies he knew that he had to end this quickly before the lack of Dementors was truly felt by the more dangerous prisoners. Not to mention that, despite his meditation, he was running almost on empty magically speaking. Ordinarily that wouldn't be the case but not only was a Patronus taxing normally but it was, due its nature, one of the most draining spells to cast in Azkaban as well as the fact that the island was continually taking his magic trickle by trickle.

Harry also made the logical assumption that the reason the Aurors hadn't shown up as he destroyed the Dementors was Voldemort's own preparation for this 'liberation' of his people. That should be hardly surprising as the Ministry was so riddled with corruption that Harry had little doubt that either someone who was loyal to Voldemort, or paid by someone who was, had arranged it.

Neither Voldemort or his remaining Death Eaters, to their credit, stayed still and soon a flurry of screamed spells began to rain down upon Harry. Thankfully for him they used their trademark green curse rather than becoming more imaginative. The killing curse was deadly but it wasn't the best choice against a lightsaber wielding foe (though they could hardly know that) as, although it required only a small amount of power coupled with a great amount of hatred, it was a pinpoint spell meaning no area of effect or splash damage.

That meant, of course, that he could deflect their attempts to kill him with his lightsaber easily enough. More than that as he, with years of practice, smoothly switched to the Shien variant of Form V was able to easily deflect one of Voldemort's killing curses into the (he assumed) surprised face of one of his Death Eaters. In other circumstances Harry would have enjoyed the look of complete surprise on the now dead Death Eaters face as he was forced to live up to his name when the body was recovered and the mask was taken off.

At the moment Harry was more concerned with living up to that point.

Still even though he was tired, bleeding and by this point pretty worn through as well as burning through the low level of magic that he had left at an alarming rate both helping him absorb fire (by way of stones on the ground) and every now and again return with his own he was doing fairly well. A great part of that had to do with his liberal use of his lightsaber as well as surprise as they didn't have any idea of how to effectively combat the Force as they hadn't encountered it before.

Then suddenly it was just Harry and Voldemort as the last Death Eater fell to his lightsaber.

The two men then began a fight, on the edge of Azkaban's shores, that defied true description. Harry used every scrap of Force power that was left to him as well as every ounce of enhanced speed and strength that he could muster to attack the Dark Lord.

In return Voldemort was using every scrap of knowledge that he had ever learned, stolen, discovered or bought to unleash a veritable tidal wave of dark spells that hadn't been seen since the darkest days of the Roman Empire. He sought nothing less than to crush this new and unknown threat so that he could then release his remaining faithful.

Harry attacked with his saber in a vicious overhead chop and it crackled madly as it was met and blocked by a shaft of the blackest magic that Voldemort had somehow summoned and utilized to stop Harry's weapon. The anger and hatred that had gone into the spells creation seemed to warp the very air around it with faint images of suffering and torment.

In response Harry barely gestured with his free hand and conjured several spheres with spinning and razor sharp blades to attack Voldemort from the rear even as their bladed duel picked up pace with neither man giving a single inch of ground.

They moved slowly, in a flurry of exchanges, towards the cliffs that surrounded Azkaban. In the small breaks that surrounded the combat Harry could hear the distant sound of water lapping against the cliffs far below their peak.

With a twist like the snakes that he was so fond of, just as the blades were about to reach him, Voldemort spun while somehow deflecting Harry's blade down and away only taking a shallow cut on his leg for his trouble that was sealed by the hot nature of the blade as it hit.

Despite himself Harry was impressed. Their speed was evenly matched as Harry had the Force and Voldemort had his rituals (not that Harry would ever do them as the price was too high) and he knew that purebloods taught their children how to use a blade as a matter of course and that some would continue it out of pure enjoyment, if not the sword division of the duelling circuit. but he had no idea that Voldemort studied it let alone got so good at it.

He was only thankful that in this day and age, unlike when he studied at Beauxbatons, the fields of magic and sword dueling were completely separate and therefore Voldemort had to combine them on his own. That was not as much of a help as it might otherwise be as, no matter his other faults and insanity, Voldemort was a stone cold genius.

When the dark blade connected with them it not only seemed to destroy them utterly but it literally devoured them like some ravenously hungry beast. To Harry's mounting horror, as they were destroyed, he not only saw the constructs fall but felt a small tug on his almost depleted magic as if it had even eaten the very magic that had created them.

Worse than that, though the blade itself seemed to ripple as it absorbed some, most of the magic seemed to flow back into the Dark Lord into the Dark Lord healing his wounds faster than than Harry ever thought possible and even seemed to rejuvenate the smirking Dark Lord slightly. As their blades clashed again Voldemort couldn't help but taunt his foe.

"What is the matter? Have you never seen the Blade of Darkness before?" Voldemort asked viciously and with an air of self satisfied glee.

"Have you never used a blade before?" Harry responded his voice thankfully muffled by his mask and Voldemort face became contorted with fury and Harry pressed his enemy, seeking to overwhelm him with unconventional attacks, even as he pushed him further and further back. Though with a fancy manoeuvre Voldemort proved that he was quite adaptable and was able to stop the assault.

Thankfully Voldemort's fancy flourish to stop Harry's latest series of attacks had put his sword a hair out of position and so Harry, with a last great burst of speed and strength, managed to slip his lightsaber past the Blade of Darkness and cut the arm holding it off just below the shoulder blade even as his other hand came up and Force Pushed Voldemort back and over the edge of the cliff.

Harry's lightsaber deactivated as he doubted Voldemort would ever be back tonight but he was sure that the masked man was now high on Voldemorts enemies list. Instead of showing fear Voldemort's face was a picture of hatred as he fell.

Before he could hit the rocks below however an emergency portkey activated and he was gone leaving only the memory of his hatred and darkness behind him. On the ground, before a now exhausted Harry, lay Voldemort's severed limb and for a moment as the adrenaline left his system he just stared at it until he focused on something else.

Voldemort's wand.

Placing both in expanded pockets Harry surveyed the prison even as his mind turned fully towards the slowly less and less terrified residents within and he knew that, without a doubt, if given even the smallest chance the sympathisers (let alone the marked Death Eaters) would return or join Voldemort at a moments notice and without a second thought.

Worse the Death Eaters that were here were not only completely unrepentant but had done such horrendous things that no amount of bribery would have bought them a pardon even if they had wanted one. Given the blatant corruption of the Wizarding World that was truly saying something about how twisted these individuals were.

Knowing that Harry slowly took one weary step after another towards the Fortress and, when he was closer, his lightsaber lit up once again.

They wouldn't have the chance to cause anymore pain to anyone ever again.

Albus Dumbledore smiled as he saw his plan was coming together. He had finally realised that he couldn't wait for others, not even his trusted agents, to find Harry.

He had not wanted it to come to this and, as he sat in his chair and stared at his bound phoenix, he regretted that it had. After all it was all so very unsubtle and that directness, that obviousness, that lack of elegance and planning really irked the puppetmaster that he had always been whether he admitted it or not.

The biggest problem that he faced at the moment was the mass disappearance of so many House Elves. The public were in a panic over the sudden loss of their most versatile servants as well as there go to for most manual labour. Entire businesses, from building to plumbing were going out of business as their unpaid workforce disappeared overnight and they had no idea what to do about it.

Truthfully neither did Dumbledore but, in the man's defence, they had been serving wizards for years uncounted and no one could have seen this coming. The lives of the two species had been entwined for such a long time that the Wizarding World had only come to rely on them more and more until they soon used them for almost everything that they couldn't or didn't want to do.

It wasn't as if they could simply petition the other European Ministries. Years ago the I.C.W. had set a limit of the transportation on elves across international borders to curb the growing trade in young untrained elves as well as protecting the risk to the Statue of Secrecy. They certainly could replenish their stocks from the remaining elves but it would take centuries of careful planning and a comprehensive breeding program. Such forward planning was beyond most.

After the abysmal failure to contain Voldemort's first rise both the British Ministry and Dumbledore personally had many enemies abroad that were not inclined in the slightest to do them any favours by bending the rules. On the contrary, like hungry jackals, they were circling around the political hayday that was the disappearance of the House Elves and would be more than happy to attack at any sign of weakness.

Also there were rumours, no much more than faint whispers really, of something going on with the Goblins and Albus had not gotten as far as he had to dismiss whispers. He planned to look into that once he had Harry back and at least put a temporary stop on the international community nosing in on what he considered _his_ business.

Throughout every other period of history there had been, at the very least, some rumblings of discontent or rebellion or _something_ but it was normally from the Goblins themselves and this time they were unusually silent.

Now with a crisis in the Wizarding World that they were completely unprepared for Dumbledore would have expected the Goblins to capitalise on it in some way but instead there was silence. Not one word came out of the unofficial channels (nothing came from the official channels as they would never communicate with the Goblin Liaison Office) except, as far as anyone could see, business as usual.

Given all of these concerns Dumbledore wanted the Harry situation dealt with as quickly as possible and so had decided that Harry would instead come to him.

Mundungus Fletcher, for a surprisingly small amount of gold, had easily taken the Dursleys and they had been quickly been force fed the Draught of Living Death and hidden in the, now mostly unused, House Elf quarters of Hogwarts. If Harry was suspicious of him Dumbledore believed that he would come eventually for them as they were the last of his family.

If he was not it might inspire him to seek Dumbledore's wisdom as to where they might have gone or who had taken them especially if he believed that Dumbledore was still the kind grandfather like figure that he often portrayed himself to be. Though he admitted to himself that since Harry had become Lord Potter (though he couldn't work out how) it was unlikely unless he had been coerced into it by someone else.

Regardless, either way, Dumbledore would win.

In a very similar vein he had, using his floo just a few minutes prior, instructed Molly Weasley to bring him Xeno Lovegood as Harry was last seen in the company of the man's daughter Luna and she, as a minor, would have to return without her father's continuing permission eventually. Even if Dumbledore did not know exactly where she was with Xeno under his control he could use the Auror Department to begin to search for her for her own wellbeing as a missing minor and heir to a pureblood House.

If she returned on her own it would likely be to Hogwarts or her home and, when she found it empty, her next port of call would either be the Burrow or the Ministry and right into his waiting clutches.

Albus's good mood at these ideas was broken when Mcgonagall entered his office in her usual quiet manner with a look of deep worry on her face and in a worried tone she spoke.

"Albus… Gringotts has closed its doors...permanently"

It was at this point that, far away from Dumbledore's office, that Luna experienced her first true Force Vision. Seeing that it was about her father she reacted instantly and without thought. She was never more grateful in that moment that her father had flouted Ministry guidelines and had taught her to apparate so that they could better hunt for the creatures that, as it turned out, only she saw on one of his working holidays. He still searched for them with her though and she loved him all the more for that.

She appeared outside her home, keyed into the rudimentary wards as a family member, just as Molly Weasley was loudly berating her father and demanding that he come and talk to Dumbledore as it concerned an issue with Luna's safety.

The annoying shrew of a woman, thought Luna, how dare she dictate to my father as if she was his mother and he was a misbehaving child of hers.

Soon, from watching outside, it was clear to Luna that Molly Weasley was not going to take no for an answer. As Luna opened the door a crack to get a better look she saw Molly's back as the woman began to try and half guide and half manhandle her father to little affect. So, as Luna watched, one of her hands began to slowly creep towards her wand so that she could force him along.

"Stupify" Luna whispered with her wand pointed at the small of Molly's back. She fell like a marionette with her strings cut and, given the tone Molly often used, it was a relief on multiple accounts as Luna took a moment to enjoy the blessed silence before she turned to her father.

"Pumpkin!" he said and rushed to hug Luna with wide open arms and a dazzling smile.

"Daddy! We have to go" she replied while cuddling into his warm shoulder " I know somewhere safe but we have to go now" she finished urgently.

"Whatever you say sweetie" agreed the affable man.

Within moments both were gone and Molly was slowly waking as her own bodies internal magic began to slowly break down the spell that had overpowered her.

The first moves had been made and blood had been drawn. Soon the hammer would fall and a world would shatter. The chessboard would tumble and the kings would lose their crowns.

The final days of Voldemort, and many other things, had begun.


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23 Shocks, Surprises and Beheading

 _A/N : There is a sad thing in this chapter...please hold all dislike over it until the end of the next chapter... also I am without a usable pc from friday till monday and never got good at writing to my phone so...the next chapter may be delayed in publishing...but its...large. So give me a few days grace please...  
_

25th July 2000

Albus Dumbledore's eyes kept moving from his hands, over to Fawkes on his perch, to the spread of newspapers on his desk and then finally back to his hands again. How, he wondered, had it gone so wrong in only a month.

 _Gringotts Britain Closes: Restricted Access To Fortunes Available In Other Branches. Purebloods And Ministry In Uproar!_

That had been the start of the puzzle, Dumbledore thought, that and the disappearance of the House Elves.

The Wizarding World was supported and maintained by three social and economic prongs (although it was never talked about in polite company). The first prong was the slowly expanding control and the subjugation of the Goblin Nation.

They trained the most advanced civilian force, and given semi regular budget cuts often more advanced than the Aurors themselves, by training Curse Breakers. They diligently took care of the Wizarding economy and kept it healthy as well as in direct competition with it's muggle counterpart. They were also the main, if not only, contact makers and executors of the Wizarding World handling over ninety percent of their legal business.

Then the British Clan had left without a trace and no answers were forthcoming from the other Clans about where they had gone.

Just like the second prong that was the House Elves. Business had collapsed from that alone, the wizards in a panic, people scrambling for hope and the few that survived were hunting for another workforce that could replace it and coming up quite empty.

Though they had been unable to track where either had gone they had lodged with both the I.C.W. and the Goblin Nation. For a moment, once that was done, the sheeple of the Wizarding World had felt like they finally had a ray of hope that pierced this dark cloud they found themselves under. Those two days of waiting for intervention had given the people time to breathe and they had used it, quite predictably, to complain often and loudly to both the Ministry and the I.C.W.

They had even blamed Dumbledore himself, as the head of that illustrious body, for all of their ills.

It was obvious that they had never taken an interest in international politics as, to Dumbledore's frustration, being the nominal leader of that body granted him great prestige but little real power. He was, and had been long before that elevation, Britain's voice on the I.C.W. but as its leader he could only enforce his choices more than any other member when there was a clear cut tie in the votes. Aside from that it was a largely bureaucratic and ceremonial role.

When the responses from both the I.C.W. and the Goblin Nation came the answers were both predictable and lacked the usual dithering nature that the public had come to expect from their own politicians.

Though Dumbledore had allies in the I.C.W. he currently had more enemies and such a great change to their existing edicts, like the one that was being demanded by the British contingent, required a large majority to pass. It wasn't a surprise to Dumbledore then when the body was resolute in their refusal to allow anymore House Elves into Britain.

After all, they had argued, if you had already lost so many why should we trust you with more?

Worse they had promised, and in some cases enacted, strong penalties around any trying to bring House Elves back into the country. Smuggling, they called it, as if trying to save your businesses and livelihood could ever be seen as a crime.

At least they were relatively polite, though stern, about their refusal and their accusation. The Goblin Nation was never known to be polite but rather more like the instruments of war they once favoured. Sharp and to the point.

They happily replied with the knowledge that what they had done was no crime and they were smug in the fact that there was nothing wrong or illegal about their actions. Simply withdrawing from their treaty with both the Crown and Wizarding Britain was something that was fully within their rights to do and they only exercised those rights. When it was pointed out to them that the clause of their withdrawal meant that they could have no banking interests in Britain for two hundred years they seemed remarkably unconcerned.

The mystery of their actions only deepened when they had not only returned, but did so happily by all accounts, the land on which the bank once was not to the Ministry but to the Crown.

The fact that the Queen had an older and far more legal claim mattered not at all to Dumbledore. After all it was a piece of Wizarding Britain and, to him, all of Wizarding Britain was his to do with as he pleased and he wasn't even consulted. They had even moved the majority of the vaults to their sister branch in Paris and therefore out of Dumbledore's control.

When the Wizengamot complained (spurred on by the purebloods in their midst) that the cost of International Portkeys as well as the fact that they could only withdraw three hundred Galleons at one time and that the majority of their fortunes were effectively frozen the Nation was unfazed.

The I.C.W. were unmoved as well as, after all, they had their own fortunes and relationship with Gringotts to consider. Added to that their own international laws prevented large amounts of money crossing borders without special permission and a heavy tax (around forty percent).

When the few allies that Dumbledore and by extension the Ministry had on the I.C.W. had pushed at the Nation to both return and resume business as usual their reply had killed that support and, worse than that, made it disappear as if it had never been there at all.

They, or rather their guest representative to the body, had not only pointed out the illegality of such an act but also asked if they wanted any other branches to be closed in the same way. He (Dumbledore assumed as all goblins looked the same to him) had gone on to say that if the pressure continued they might find themselves doing that and that Gringotts, in its long career as a financial institution, had never welcomed outside interference in their business.

The third and final prong, as well as possibly the most overtly exploited, were the muggleborns themselves and they were fleeing en mass like a horde of rats thanks to some bright spark in the Ministry.

It had all started with a simple conversation that, unlike prudence dictated, was not held behind closed doors and away from others ears but rather in the open and very public Ministry Cafeteria.

No one knew who had started the conversation but it was Albus's private opinion it was the idiot of the highest order. It was likely a drunk pureblood as even those that were drunk were able to easily get a job at the Ministry if they ever wanted one.

Soon many had heard the conversation and one of the dirtiest and most unspoken secrets of the Wizarding World was out before anyone could stop it. After all most Aurors were at least from half blood families with a fair few (due both to budget cuts and the fairness of Madam Bones) being muggleborn themselves.

Muggleborns were denied jobs, that much was common knowledge, but what wasn't known was that they were also much more heavily taxed. In everything from food that they bought and the clothes that they wore to the very wands that they depended on daily. It was a sliding scale but, roughly speaking, if a pureblood would be taxed three percent then half bloods would be taxed ten and muggleborns forty five.

Someone had allowed them to find out about it and, worse than that, they had quickly discovered the proposed backup plan for dealing with the House Elf problem. Though only in the planning stages the Ministry intended to take up to one third of of the children of muggleborns or the magical children of muggles and use them as new labour.

What the inept and bigoted Ministry didn't realise was that most muggleborns, especially former Ravenclaws, kept in contact through an informal network primarily to support each other. They mostly helped each other out with jobs and cheap places to live but now, as of the news breaking, it was used to help them flee as quickly as possible.

Many had crossed the channel where they were welcomed with open arms. A few had taken International Portkeys before the Ministry could react and some, no more than a few hundred by their estimates, had disappeared as completely and with as much trace as the House Elves. They simply didn't have the manpower to adequately stop them all however and many were still leaving the same way.

It had taken Dumbledore a week to rally enough support to open the empty warren that used to be the British Branch of Gringotts. The hope was that there was some money or assets left in the tunnels and, if not that, that there would be some clue as to where they went as there were simply too many goblins gone to be absorbed into the other branches.

The Ministry was in desperate need of money, the country was falling apart, so they didn't take much convincing to go looking for gold. Dumbledore also hoped to find some record of Harry, if not some money, as his Vault was not on the publicised list of those that moved to France. The Ministry did have some reserves that they could draw upon but most of that emergency fund had been spent by the Minister on bribes for his last campaign.

This meant that the fund, that was supposed to last a year, would barely allow them to make it to the end of August and was worse than useless given the crisis that they faced.

They had only just managed to break down the front and very thick enchanted doors after using a hastily assembled and rune encrusted battering ram. That it had taken them over two hours and was a testament to the Nations skill.

Although the majority of the wards had ceased to function when the Nation had given back the land it was not the Ministry that (technically) had rights to it but the Crown instead. That meant that any traps that they hadn't removed would see the wizards that entered as trespassers and react accordingly.

When the Ministry had entered they had lost many of their remaining 'finest' due to those traps but, of course, neither the Minister nor Dumbledore were actually there at that point. Before he could make his own, now safe excursion, to the Vaults the next headline had slapped him in the face.

 _Harry Potter Trains In Secret And Moves Lordship To France_.

How that seemingly innocuous sentence irritated and angered Dumbledore. He had searched the length and breadth of Britain for Harry but he had been so sure that Harry hadn't left England as it was almost inconceivable for someone to apparate that far undetected, especially someone of Harry's limited power and his age, and the International Portkey terminals were still on high alert for Britain's most famous son.

The fact that he went to France and the Gringotts branch there held the majority of the wealth of their greatest and brightest to virtual ransom was a coincidence that he was not willing to accept.

He couldn't even rail at the French Ministry or Gringotts for that as, if he did, not only would he be putting literal fortunes at risk but he would be leaving himself open to questions as to why he had never trained Harry and how he had lost him. Those were questions that Dumbledore definitely wished to avoid.

His head had slapped into the palm of his hands multiple times when he remembered that the Nation was able to, as a sovereign power, issue its own portkeys. This was, he believed, how Harry Potter had managed to slip the multiple nets that he kept casting to catch the wayward boy.

That didn't explain how Harry had managed to stop Fawkes from catching him on the three separate occasions that he had sent him to get Harry. After the first attempt Dumbledore had checked the dark bindings on the mythical bird fearing that he might have somehow slipped his leash. He was soothed by the fact that they remained strong and tight over the bird.

When he found that Harry couldn't be retrieved he came to the logical conclusion that someone powerful was protecting Harry and that they had at least one phoenix themselves as he knew of no way of stopping a phoenix except with the use of another. This was especially apparent to him after the last time as the wounds were so severe that Fawkes had to enter a burning day early to recover from his injuries.

None of that boded well for Dumbledore as either it was someone who had bound a phoenix just as he had or, in the worst possible case, someone who had legitimately attracted the bird.

Anyone who had attracted a familiar in that way, though not necessarily light despite the myth they that they had to be, would both be firmly moral and resolute in their convictions. They would also have to be very powerful and were clearly deeply opposed to his own plans or they would not have taken Harry in the first place.

He couldn't know that the shadowy person that caused him hours of worry and strife didn't exist. It was instead actually the wild phoenixes of Spero that had been given a home by Harry felt indebted to him and would protect him, as much as they could, from any agent of Dumbledore. Harry himself wasn't even aware that they were even doing it.

Still when Dumbledore finally entered Gringotts after it was disarmed of traps on the upper levels he was, more than ever before, certain that he would find papers and records on Harry's whereabouts and his dealings with an unknown third party. He was also hopeful that he could claim an impressive amount of gold (some of which would have to go to the Ministry) even if it was only from Harry's Vault and perhaps some other accounts that were unclaimed or inactive.

Instead of any of that however he found that the Nation were as efficient as they were irritating as, in all but one Vault, they either simply found more traps or Vaults were stripped completely bare. Then he had reached the main Potter Vaults and, despite his earlier disappointments, he had felt an uprising of hope in his chest as he entered the cavernous vault.

Only to find thirty pieces of silver in the center of the room placed in a delicate pile.

As he sat there, with the papers strewn on his desk, and worried about the past an idea occurred to him. He thought that he knew of a way to draw Harry to him that he hadn't considered before but, true to his luck these days, before he could use it he would have to double check his idea with a few books from the Headmaster's private library that was off of his office. Before he could begin however more bad news struck as it really hadn't been going well for him lately.

"Headmaster" said Mcgonagall who was out of breath and haggard looking as she burst into his office "Severus has disappeared".

Placing the book to one side for a moment he pretended to listen attentively and, while he used his occlumency to record the conversation, his mind was on one Petunia Dursley nee Evans who could draw Harry back to this very office.

Sadly it would require almost all of her blood, she was essentially a squib and it required magic related to Harry to work, as due to their indirect familial relationship more was better. She wasn't likely to survive the process but as long as she served her purpose he wouldn't care at all. It wasn't like he cared for her in the slightest as, at this point, he only cared for the part that she could play in his Greater Good.

The day before Dumbledore found out about Snape's disappearance Voldemort was having his own issues. Given the fact that he was a Dark Lord who, in theory, was being hunted by two separate but linked groups that wanted him dead and the fact that he dealt primarily with similarly dangerous and unscrupulous people similar to himself his problems were unlikely to make the _Daily Prophet_.

His death or great success would though.

He had fully intended to capitalise on the recent upheaval to full effect but, as he sat in his 'throne room' at Riddle Manor in Little Hangleton (at the moment not much more than an empty dining room with a suitably large and imposing chair in the centre of the room with a small table next to it) he knew that he was currently unable to do so for two very good reasons.

The first was that he was suffering from the same monetary collapse caused by the Nation as everyone else. As a bastard of Slytherin he had always been unable to access their Vault and therefore his sources of finance came from the enlightened pureblood families that had always banked, like everyone else, with the traitorous vermin. That, along with the fact that the I.C.W. was watching the borders like a starving bird of prey, severely curtailed both his financial stability and his recruitment efforts both here and in other nearby sympathetic countries.

The second, and to him the more pressing issue, was the unknown man who had taken his wand and arm.

Granted due to the fact that this body was a magical construct it had been a very simple matter to repair. It had only required milking Nagini dry of venom and a short and simple ritual to restore his body back to its former pristine condition. This was because it was made, in part, from her venom in the first place as it had nourished the baby form that went into the cauldron at his resurrection.

He had lost his wand as well and that did bother him because, although he was skilled in wandless magic, his knowledge of magic that didn't use a wand was limited. There was also the fact that Nott's wand was a poor match for him but was also the best of a bad bunch. Besides it wasn't like Nott needed it anymore as he was assigned to watch the Nation and anticipate changes. He had failed and for such a spectacular failure there was only one price to be paid for that.

What galled him, what angered him and kept him staring viciously into the middle distance, was that no one had managed to injure him so badly before especially when they were outnumbered. They simply wouldn't have dared to try. He was used to people fleeing or cowing before such was the fear that he had once inspired.

Nott wasn't the only one to die and that too was thanks to his masked enemy. He was not unaware of the irony when his useful Death Eaters were being killed by a masked and unknown enemy. The remaining rank and file were jumping at shadows rather than inspiring the fear that they should and simply put they were being quietly and effectively hunted so that now there was a deep and abiding feeling of fear among them all.

Knowing that Harry Potter was currently in France somewhere he had sent, before the deaths, his nine Inner Circle Death Eaters to hunt down the boy and the majority of the other ninety one Death Eaters were left to sow terror in the small groups amongst Wizarding Britain.

Almost all of them were dead now (there also used to be almost double the one hundred that had served him before they died in their cells at Azkaban) with only an almost terrified thirty regular Death Eaters in total remaining and only four of his Inner Circle.

They hadn't known what was happening at first.

It had begun with seeming accidents or the targets dying in ones or twos before help could arrive and in places where such things, though rare, were not unheard of. Places like Knockturn Alley were well known for losing customers in their streets where the idiots would soon become food for the hags and other things.

Soon though they were dropping in greater numbers by the day and it wasn't long before a few rescue teams had spotted the blasted masked man leaving the scene of his grisly work. He had tried to fight back in the only way that he knew how, by terrorising the innocent, to both hopefully draw his enemy out and instill confidence once more in his servants, but it had gone horribly wrong.

He also was beginning to suspect that this new enemy was a Seer of some sort as, no matter what he tried, when his followers hit 'soft targets' such as muggleborn homes the death toll certainly rose. It was on the wrong side as far as he was concerned however. They started dropping in larger and larger groups, often attacked from ambush, and something had to be done.

So he had sent five of his Inner Circle along with the next attack that included ten normal Death Eaters as well. It was a massacre and the fact that his best, his chosen, were all decapitated by a man with a glowing sword was reported by the last surviving Death Eater who was purposely left without his arms or legs.

It was an outright declaration of war against him and he had to respond but he was at a loss how to do so.

So he had retreated and regrouped. He had kept his servants close and quiet while retasking his remaining Inner Circle Death Eaters Bella, Rookwood, Lucius Malfoy and Snape to find out who this masked irritant was and destroy him. He had even raided the books he had access to to provide them temporary protection against Seers just in case.

His main target, Harry Potter, was in hiding and could be enticed or forced from his bolt hole and killed at his leisure once things were more secure if absolutely necessary. He didn't want that though as, no matter insignificant, the whelp and what he represented was a threat to his power.

Oddly he felt more comfortable here than at one of the lavish Manors of his followers. This was the place where his family was born, at least part of it, and was simpler...more pure. It was also much more defensible even with the magical alterations that he had made to make it larger, fit more people, and make it much more imposing.

They had not been foolish about their search, from the reports they received (though thanks to the I.C.W. responses were too dangerous), and had split up into two groups. This pairing had worked very well in the past with each pair managing to work well enough together that they were almost a single organism. The calm calculating and patient nature of Snape paired well with the delicious fire and passion of Bella. Rookwood's planning and Malfoy's unorthodox tactics worked just as well in a similar fashion.

They had progressed across France well and Snape and Bella were due to report back to him at any moment and he couldn't wait for the inevitable news of their eventual success. He dreamed of destroying the upstart and watching the life slowly drain from his eyes. Then he would certainly reanimate the body for further experiments and he desired to do so over and over, killing and reanimating in a multitude of ways, until he was bored.

Two days before Dumbledore's introspection and revelation as well as the day before Voldemort was waiting for his report from his most trusted Harry had just finished sparring with Luna who was now mercifully free and clear of the conflict between her two gifts.

Harry was privately amazed at her progress as they sparred.

He had worked with her every single day, often twice a day, and it was paying off handsomely. In the morning he would work with her to release her gifts and utilized them fully followed by sparring with their blades and a light lunch.

After lunch they would separate to do their own things, sometimes each studied different magic while enjoying the relative closeness of the other, sometimes they studied the more esoteric uses of the Force and sometimes Harry would leave on errands or other duties and meetings that he would have to go to.

They would always meet later for more sparring or further Force instruction that often ran until dinner. After which they would, without fail, just talk. The spoke as they used to before, slowly both coming to fully trust the other once again, and they soon realised that no matter what course Harry's life had taken and how different he had become in some senses the bond that they had shared was still there.

Though Harry could tell that in both the Force and magic he was much more powerful than Luna, about half again at least by his most conservative estimate, like anything else in life her gifts were unique to her and she was better at certain aspects of both the Force and magic than he was even now.

She was better at sensing living things, plants and the like, and making them grow and healing the Jedi way as well as gaining the trust of animals. Harry for his part was always more inclined to the more warlike aspects of the Force such as almost every branch of Telekinesis, Force Lightning and Mind Trick. Not that either was deficient in the others area of expertise merely that somethings were more natural to one and not the other.

It was not even that Harry was in anyway surprised by her rapid progress and the strong pace with which she absorbed this knowledge (she was a Ravenclaw after all) and although True Seers had an aversion to learning occlumency she didn't have that particular problem anymore.

True Seers were quite wary naturally of trying to improve their memory, as they seemed to enjoy being able to forget anything even things that had nothing to do with their visions, and Harry honestly could not blame them their yearning to forget given their circumstances.

Occlumency would take time of course but her other studies were still progressing fantastically without it and he could only wonder sometimes how quickly she would absorb information with its assistance.

Her father's situation also helped ground her.

Once the facts of the current situation had been explained to him he had decided to settle fully in France, though still publishing his paper as he loved it, and Harry had commissioned the Nation to build a small cottage less that five minutes walk from them. This allowed everyone their space but also meant that Xeno could visit his daughter and vice versa whenever each wished to.

When Xeno had grumbled about the cost of building a brand new dwelling from the ground up just for him Harry had waved him away smiling. It obviously made Luna happy and that was more than enough for him and made the money spent of no consequence as he would have gladly spent a hundred times that to make her happy and call it a good bargain.

It wasn't only that she was grounded though. He suspected that it had something to do with her being a natural Force User, more than any he had ever seen except perhaps Yoda (for all his faults), as when he tried to access both the Force and magic he had to mentally divide himself beforehand or take a small moment to switch gears as it were.

Luna had no such problems with using both simultaneously, albeit one hand would form the conduit for one and another for the other, and it was fast becoming not only a very useful and adaptable skill but a dangerous one as well. She was advanced enough, in Harry's opinion, that she would be ready to build her very first lightsaber within a few days.

Combine all that with her preferred lightsaber form which, unlike Harry was not Form V but rather Form IV Ataru and she became an unpredictable nightmare to her enemies with a lightsaber in hand. She would happily combine the two gifts while sparring to not only attack from unconventional angles and acrobatically move away but rain down the fires of magic as she did so. Both she and Harry also had a soft spot for Makashi and would happily fall back on that on occasion as well.

Harry fully intended not to stop giving extra time to his lightsaber styles until he had fully mastered Forms II,V,VI and VII and had already made significant headway in the endeavour over the years. Luna, on the other hand, was more content with eventually mastering Forms II and IV (at least for now) when it came to lightsaber combat.

Somehow, Harry thought, I think if she had been taken to the Temple she would have easily ended up a Sage rather than a Guardian.

At length their practice stopped for now. Though he was proud and impressed with her she still had a long way to go and it showed in the fact that she was almost completely drenched through with sweat while Harry, in contrast, was barely winded.

As much as Harry would have loved to spend the day with Luna though he was, at this moment, trying very hard not to stare at her sweat covered form or be distracted by the way her upper body heaved while she caught her breath. He was only partially successful given that her clothes were light, and with the sweat making them almost see through.

He also had things to do today and he had already asked her if she could spend some time, in the early evening, at her father's cottage. She in her way had agreed already sensing that it was important that she not be here later.

"Why does the lightsaber deflect spells?" she asked, noticing his looks and with a light blush, trying to distract him from what caused it. Not that she didn't like it, quite the opposite actually, rather it was merely that they had some slowly moving but well defined lines in their relationship that neither were ready to cross just yet.

"When I met the Nation, back then, they had some ability with wands and on a whim I sparred with a few. I know only that it does and, I assume, that like a blaster bolt magic is merely another form of energy. It is not foolproof however, certain spells like Bombarda have an effect if they hit near you if it hits something else, like the hilt, and always remember that a lightsaber deflects what it does not hit".

"So you don't really know" she teased.

"Not really no" he said and then continued in an overly pompous voice "but with magic, like with life my young Padawan, there is always more to learn".

"Yes Master" she said in exactly the same tone he used and doing a fair mimicry of his voice as well. After a moment they both chuckled and, when they had finished the smiles stayed on their faces.

"What" he asked turning serious once again and after collecting himself "are you going to do today?"

"I thought I'd study a bit more of the _Compendium of Curses Volume Six_ why?" She answered while Harry moved over to his armour on a stand. He softly caressed it, his fingertips brushed the still present symbol of the Democratic State of Almania though he had removed the symbol of the Jedi Order, and he smiled slightly even as he readjusted his lightsabers power setting with a flick of his thumb while still leaving one lightsaber with Luna.

Despite its main purpose and use the armour reminded him more of the good he had done rather than the battles that he had seen.

"Be careful of the back few pages. They are more than a little bit tricky" he replied even as he began to buckle on his armour. He then placed his helmet on his head "I'm off to run my _errand_ ".

"Be sure to be back before two. We have a late lunch with the Longbottoms. Don't you think that it's high time we explained things to them?"

Harry had been so busy lately that he had honestly forgotten his promise to speak to Neville. He had sent him a Goblin Portkey that would send them to a high end (and out of the way) restaurant with private rooms before Gringotts had closed its doors. The fact that it was run by squibs that were beholden to House Potter for their first loan was a bonus.

His face fell at the idea of meeting them and, though he tried to cover it under a bland mask, Luna saw it clearly.

"Don't worry" Luna said softly "they will understand. Even if not everyone might they will".

"I only wish I could be so sure" he answered " I only wish I could send them a message instead".

He realised that had been very lucky in people believing his tale so far. Granted he had certain technologies that would help convince people but he was still asking them to take a lot on trust especially with his conclusions about Snape and Dumbledore.

Thankfully, though it hadn't happened for centuries, Ancient and Noble Houses properly raised their Heirs to be wary of such manipulations. Once upon a time there were far fewer laws and certain types of attacks were much more common.

It was most likely one of the many reasons that he had been placed where he was so that he would simply be unaware and very very trusting of Dumbledore.

A dull and familiar pain began in his chest. Since he had been back he had found he had realised that one very important thing was missing. When Harry returned Hedwig was missing and no search, no spell and no meditation on the past or future had found her.

"We will find her Harry" said Luna soothingly easily reading his expression as if he was an open book. Then again, by this point, he pretty much was that to her. He nodded to show that he understood but, far from leaving the house he began to head in deeper. Luna's curiosity got the better of her. "Are you not going to go straight out?"

"I have something to do first" he said while moving up the stairs and heading towards his houses third bedroom that, with the help of the Nation, had long ago been converted into a fully functioning and possibly the most comprehensive ritual room that was still confirmed to be in existence.

When he opened the door, instead of a bed and furniture that one might suspect in a room of its kind, there were runes littered all over the walls all designed to send every scrap of magic (both wizarding and natural) into the center of the room. In that centre was a circle of runes that had taken months to sketch out, let alone complete, and all the runes were filled in with minute traces of New Atlantis Metal.

Along one wall was a shelf that stretched to both ends of the room and on it were three unremarkable hemp bags. One of those was small, one average and the other fairly large. Harry quickly approached them and took the average bag and, just as fast, unceremoniously dumped its contents into the centre of the circle where they stuck like glue given the rooms magical nature and natural charge.

In the circle was a piece of Voldemort's arm that Harry had taken (specifically three of his fingers) along with a replica of a priceless crown and an unbreakable vial of Harry's own blood.

Rituals ran on the twin ideas of symbolism and sympathetic magic and so it was not the worth of the items, necessary, or the difficulty of finding them that mattered but rather how closely they represented (to the caster and, sometimes as in this case, the target or targets) what they were supposed to.

The fingers therefore represented Voldemort's fist and symbolized his will made manifest through violent action. The crown represented his most prized possessions, his Inner Circle, as he did think of himself an undisputed ruler after all, and Harry's blood a link between the two as it symbolised that which had helped the Dark Lord be resurrected and bound together his desire to rule and his belief that the Inner Circle would obey him always.

Harry quickly and carefully began to chant. He didn't actually understand the words but he understood their desired effect. This lack of understanding was forgivable to most as the words he was sounding out in his chanting were the almost complete definition of a lost and dead language. These sounds, both oddly guttural and almost as beautiful and light as music, were last spoken as a common tongue on the lost island of Atlantis.

It had taken both his recon droids and the Nation centuries to piece enough of those words together to form this ritual. A ritual that might never be needed of course but, the beauty of time travel, allowed Harry to set in motion many plans and ideas most of which never came to fruition and this was as it turned out one of his better ones.

At length his voice built to such a level in both volume and power that he was soon yelling into the uncaring stone walls even as small tremors echoed around the room. The tremors only increased as he began to reach the end of the words that he was speaking to such an extent that, if he hadn't given Luna some hint of what he was doing, his houseguest might have been running up to the room in a blind panic.

Then everything stopped for a single heartbeat, as if the world itself had woken and was judging his efforts, and then as suddenly as the pause began it too stopped.

The pieces on the floor began, one by one, to be consumed with a dark black and greasy flame. First the fingers, then the blood and finally the crown were completely and utterly destroyed by its power. Harry watched intently as the flames first rose into one great bonfire that reached the ceiling and then slowly died down even as he regained his breath and wiped a veritable stream of sweat from his face with the back of his hand.

When the flames finally died Harry smiled at the ash they had left on the floor.

Co-ordinates.

More specifically there were two sets of coordinates but, given that it was a ritual, it didn't just give numbers in the usual fashion but also managed to give representations of his targets.

Harry admitted to himself that he was very lucky that they weren't more dispersed than they were as it could have taken forever to track them all down although one of the reasons he had waited till now was that there were currently only four to find.

On the left hand side of each set of coordinates, directly underneath them in fact, were animal representations of his targets made from the same ash that had produced the numbers.

On the left hand set was a snarling dog that seemed to shimmer with ashy saliva that dripped constantly from its muzzle. Next to that was a bat in mid flight that was half obscured by shadow and radiating a feeling of cold and calculating mence.

On the other he saw a fox moving slowly through the brush, alert for any sign of danger or treachery, and a snake slowly moving but only when you weren't looking directly at it.

Harry, having studied the pictures intently for a few moments, nodded having made his choice.

He then left with a silent pop hoping that his chosen targets hadn't wandered far from where the ritual showed they were in the meantime.

While the other pair were rooting around Potter properties Snape had used his (at least to him) genius level intellect to ferret out an informant in the French Ministry of Magic. Of course this was only due to his intelligence and had nothing to do with the fact that the other three were wanted criminals and couldn't enter the French Ministry without being arrested on the spot for their crimes.

While not as corrupt or cowardly as it's British counterpart there were still those that respected, or feared, his Lords power. It hadn't taken much for Snape to find someone to tell him what he wanted to know and, with the appropriate application of money and fear, he soon had the information that he required.

Still security was better across the channel, especially with the internationals looking in, and the fool could only get the information out before he was caught by way of a letter but thankfully when they had met Snape was in full Death Eater gear and he couldn't be identified to a legal certainty.

That information was only one word and that word was Vauquelin. It had taken him sometime to find any information on the old and reclusive family but, at length, he had found records of a single dwelling somewhere between Paris and Calais. The records couldn't be more specific because he couldn't afford the attention that would follow his inquiries and the fact that even the records themselves were under some of the strongest security charms that he had ever seen.

Obviously, he thought, it was protected in a similar fashion to Black's former house as there would be no other reason a mind of my caliber would be unable to find more information on it and even the information I found was very difficult to get. He had gotten Black though and he was determined to get Potter too. Crossing the channel may have been very difficult but my Lord is generous, intelligent and powerful.

Their victory was almost certain in his mind.

Thinking of his Lord led him to thinking of his recent past and that brought a true and vindictive smile to his lips even now. He was aware that creating four amulets that allowed his most trusted had caused his master to be exhausted for over a week but he was also aware that, when he left, his Lord was protected. When he had left the other Inner Circle members were back in Britain and, though he had been out of two way contact since, they were capable even though they were not him.

They couldn't afford to draw too much attention outside of Britain until they could face the I.C.W. from a place of strength but that little issue did nothing to lessen the relatively recent successes in Snape's mind.

The death of Black still warmed his heart like a very fine wine and he happily revisited his memory of the man's death often. It wasn't that he was aware of the Dark Lord's trap, no one ever completely trusted a spy after all, but then James Potter's spawn had told him of Black's supposed peril and like a gift from heaven Black's life was suddenly and beautifully placed into his hands.

He had not only enjoyed delaying the 'reinforcements' as much as possible for the 'kidnapped' Black but he had volunteered to go with the team and had even managed to make himself look suitability surprised when they all realised that Black was not only not in peril but it was actually the Golden Boy in danger.

It had of course culminated in Black's death and a moment of incandescent joy for Snape personally.

Though he would have been disappointed under other circumstances the fact that the Potter brat had come a hair's breadth from dying himself but that Snape had also got to see him die took the edge off as it were. If he could not have Harry Potter dead then, to Snape, the fact that the boy proceeded to torture himself endlessly with guilt over the death of Black was icing on the cake and almost as good to him.

It would only make Potters eventual death sweeter in his mind.

Truthfully Snape, though currently certain of Voldemort's victory, didn't really care who eventually won the tug of war for the country. He was only concerned with his own survival as well as hopefully coming out on top. In fact there was only one thing that the vile and twisted man cared for more than that and it was for himself and only himself.

Getting his revenge.

Not on Voldemort or Dumbledore but on the ghost of James Potter. Lily Evans was his and only his as far as he was concerned. He was the one that had found her as a young girl and, in his mind at least, had claimed her as his then and there.

Everything had been going well for him for sometime after that as his property, that was what she was, had been given a Hogwarts letter and all the pieces of his plan were falling into place. She had grown to trust and care for him more and more before they left for school and, as time went on, seemed to be as interested in him as he was in her.

Then it had all started to end for his plan when they had been sorted into not only different but rival houses in school.

Right then, Snape thought with hatred and ire, Potter had _stolen_ her. The bastard was not just content with tormenting me unjustly but had managed to steal, to forever corrupt and taint, what was clearly mine. He had _turned her against me_.

All of these things had led him to the present, to the veritable wilderness between Calais and Paris, with the Dark Lord's personal hound looking for that irritating and unlucky brat. Not that Snape was unhappy with his task, at least not completely, as he was certain that Voldemort would torture and kill the unlucky and big headed boy slowly. He was hoping of course that he would be allowed to watch and that idea sent a shiver of pleasure through him.

The only reason that he did not do so himself when he had seen the boy in his crib, so very long ago, was because of that thrice cursed life debt that James Potter had so unfairly tricked him into so long ago. He wanted the boy to die of course but if he ever knowingly attempted it with the debt still active he would have died himself before a single syllable could pass his lips.

He was also unhappy with his choice of companion for this venture as Bella was snarling and muttering to her self often and he found it not only needless but quite distracting to boot. He personally only really valued her as a terrifying fighter and had long ago realised that you couldn't get anything that passed as straight conversation out of her until she had blood on her hands.

"I don't know why we are bothering to follow your _lead_ " spat Bella with as much sarcasm as the man woman could muster even as she stared at the vibrant green french countryside as its very existence offended her on some deep and intrinsic level.

"What do you suggest?" Snape responded just as sarcastically. Just because they were both bound by the Dark Mark and Voldemort's favour it did not mean that they were bound to any sort of fellowship or affection. In other times the Dark Lord quite enjoyed the infighting that often ensued between two of his favourites.

"I don't know or I wouldn't be here" she snapped before proving Snapes judgement of her character correct when she continued after a moment. "Still.. It doesn't feel right if I don't have some screaming wastes blood on my clothes before at least my bre….".

Her words ended in a gurgled scream as she collapsed with a sizable chunk of her side and chest missing.

Snape was already moving, paranoid to the end, spinning on the spot and already casting a shield to protect himself. Numerous dark spells ran through his mind as it was flooded with his bodies adrenaline and his breathing grew louder and his eyes sharper preparing for the fight to come.

In front of him (and filling him with more than a little fear not that he would ever admit it) he saw the masked killer that they had not only told him about but was also the one rumored to have taken the Dark Lord's arm in combat.

Though Snape could not see the face behind the mask he did know, mostly from his own experiences behind one, that there would be no pity there and he would find no mercy in that bland expression.

With a snarl of anger and fear he began to fire every single dark curse that he knew, including the killing curse, in an unending and ever increasing stream of hatred. He screamed them and was casting them so fast that his wand burned so hot that it was blistering his hand as he tried to destroy his faceless enemy.

The sword that the man carried, the same one that probably injured the Dark Lord so grievously, strange though it was to Snape batted away his best attempts like they were flies. Combining that with an almost superhuman ability to turn his body ever so slightly so that the ones that were not deflected missed him (sometimes by less than half an inch) meant that the man's slow and measured steps were bringing the two closer. Even those that got through, few that they were, almost seemed to curve around his enemy.

Despite his best efforts the only effect that Snape could see was that he was maring the beautiful countryside.

No matter what he did the man still continued to move forward steadily and slowly, as if he had all the time in the world, as if this wasn't a battle to the death for him but rather a pleasant stroll on a sunny afternoon. It was almost as if Snape was beneath the man's attention or at least only the same amount of attention that someone would give a very annoying gnat buzzing around his head.

Still that gave Snape an idea. Although whatever his opponent was using stopped truly damaging magic for whatever reason, at least that directed straight at him, he had the idea to cast magic that would either impact the masked man indirectly or do not lasting harm. Given that the man was getting very close he couldn't effectively do the first for fear of injuring himself but he could do the second.

Although Snape was a very accomplished Potions Master he had, as a Death Eater, focused his combat skills on either killing his opponents quickly or torturing him for Voldemort and neither spell set particularly helped him here. He knew his limitations and he was certainly ruthless and cruel but he was not (and never had been) a champion duelist.

He was not the kind of man to ever to give up however. He had etched out his place as a halfblood in Slytherin House by never moving an inch and utterly crushing any opposition. He had also never given up on his (justified in his mind) hatred of anything Potter and his belief that Lily Evans was stolen from him. He would never stop, never give in, and his growing bitterness fed into his magic fuelling his abilities to new heights.

With a face twisted with hate he began banishing everything and anything he could from the battlefield that wouldn't hurt him as he summoned it. Small rocks, pieces of wood and small clumps of clay were all fair game along with dark variations of stunners, shield breakers and various spells designed to incapacitate rather than kill. He did all this while inwardly cursing his very limited repotre of those spells.

To his delight none of them curved around the man in the slightest. He felt elated at his small triumph that he had against his irritating foe.

His victorious feeling was short lived however as the masked man seemed to almost radiate _amusement_ at his best efforts. It was still, after everything, like he was nothing and as angry as that made him it seemed disturbingly to hold true.

The masked man managed to avoid his latest attempts easily. He did not do this by using flashy or powerful magic and he didn't even do it by using his strange sword but by simply not being where he was a moment before. It was almost as if Snape blinked and suddenly the man was almost right in front of him.

He couldn't help it, he gaped like a idiotic first year, as his enemy moved faster than anyone he had ever seen except the Dark Lord. Even he, with his enhanced body, couldn't keep those speeds up for long without damaging himself. Snape truly believed that no human being could have moved that fast, let alone while ducking and weaving projectiles, and manage to avoid his last minute defence with the same erie grace that he had shown while walking at the start. An odd thought thought popped into his head as the masked attacker finally reached him.

The Dark Lord could match this certainly, he thought with a surprising amount of trepidation, but my Lord has gone through years of deep research and many painful dangerous rituals to gain such benefits and enhancements. What then had this _thing_ done and was it even human anymore?

His wand hand was removed with a wave of agonizing pain and the smell of burned flesh even as he was somehow kicked powerfully in his chest and though he could cast as easily with his other hand he knew there was no chance of him reaching his wand at this moment. He was then bound by simple ropes (the first magic that he had seen this thing use, like an ancient sacrifice to the old dark pagan gods.

And then, finally, he looked up to the face of his would be captor as the man removed his mask and began to laugh slightly hysterically.

"Oh will you just shut up" Harry snarled viciously while brutally backhanding the now trapped and one handed Snape. He did so hard enough that not only did Snape's mouth crack and bleed in an impressive display but, by the sheer volume of the blood, Harry could tell that there was damage to the jaw as well as a few teeth missing. A quick and sloppily done (on purpose) healing spell fixed Snape's ability to speak but did nothing about his teeth.

Snape promptly spat out some blood, as well as teeth coughing while did so and fixed Harry with a blood red grin.

"Life Debts. I should have remembered" Snape whispered hoarsely.

He knew, as he was magically raised, that you could not directly harm someone that you owed one to. Magic was not unfair however as, because Snape did not intend Harry Potter harm but rather an unknown masked man, he was not killed directly in the simple attempt. Still if he had managed to harm Harry indirectly at all he would have died anyway.

It was all to test me, thought Snape angrily, all he needed to do was take off the mask and I couldn't have fought him or I would have been dead before I could blink. I never want my heart to spontaneously explode in my chest. He was _playing_ with me.

Snape's hatred for Harry focused him more on the present despite his pain and shock.

"Yes you should" Harry replied while raising his wand clearly intent on ending Snape once and for all. "As funny as it might have been to see you try and work as a one handed Potions Master I am going to make certain that you never harm anyone ever again".

"But I already have hurt you" Snape interrupted Harry. Despite the imminent threat and reports to the contrary Snape's worldview would not allow him to believe that _Saint_ Potter would ever kill him. He instead believed, that unless Voldemort broke him free, that the Ministry (French not English) would do that and thanks both to his Lord's precarious position in France and international pressure his death was assured.

However if he was to die he would steal on last victory, one last chance to twist the knife, before he did. It was, after all, his nature.

"If you mean your mind raping occlumency sessions or the binds on my power.." Harry began.

"I don't mean that, those were Dumbledore's plans for you, you utter and complete moron" he snapped while smiling his vicious and blood red smile. "Tell me Potter...where is your owl?"

Harry's eyes widened at the implication even as he clenched his ring hand tightly enough that his knuckles turned white.

It had been at the back of his mind, since he had taken over his former life, that he hadn't seen Hedwig and he was very worried about it as he could feel no trace of their bond. He had hoped that someone, perhaps Dumbledore, had hidden her to use as leverage but that apparently was not the case. As he looked down on Snape's smiling face he realised that such hopes were in vain.

"What did you do?" Harry asked softly with a voice that was as quiet and still as the calmest ocean but was ready, at a moments notice, to turn into a great world ending tidal wave.

"You thought your pet wouldn't try and follow you to the Department of Mysteries? She was too loyal for that I'm afraid and it only took a simple well aimed spell to redirect her". Snape smiled "It was beautifully cast, if I do say so myself, and she headed instead to Grimmauld Place". The tone of pride in his voice was sickening to Harry as was the self satisfied grin that he wore. "She never made it out of there of course. So many people were running around trying to help you that it was so easy to slip into my room and do away with the pest. I was going to stuff it and hang the stupid bird, feathers and all, above my fireplace at home….do you like the place of honour I would have given her?"

"I think that you are a petty, evil and twisted shell of a man looking for his final fix of agony on a victims face". Harry smiled humorlessly and then continued in the same soft voice "I was going to kill you, I really was, but your care of my pet requires special consideration".

"Fine brat" replied Snape angrily "turn me over to your pet Ministry then"

"Now why" said Harry with a small amount of vindictive pleasure in his voice "would I do something as asinine as that? No I have a much better idea and you, as a teacher, should know about all the ways that someone can discharge a life debt".

Snape paled. The first and easiest way, as Snape had tried but failed to do in Harry's first year, that someone could do so was to save the holders life in return. Harry could also simply demand Snape's life or magic in return and that was one of many reasons why Snape had been all for Harry growing up without knowledge of them.

There were other ways though, other means of calling the debt due, and none of them boded well for Snape. He had to wonder which one Harry had in mind. Harry himself had a particular, and in the last few hundred years unfashionable, idea that would greatly help him now.

"Tell me _Snivellus_ what do you know about the _Command_?" Harry's voice, once quiet, was now perhaps even more triumphant than Snape's had been only moments earlier.

"Y-you wouldn't!?" Snape sputtered.

"Oh I would and I will" Harry responded his voice dripping with dark humor.

The Command was a very specific, not to mention somewhat limited way, of repaying the debt. In simplistic terms it was an order, or at best a set of instructions, that Snape would have to follow to the letter and until discharged all penalties that normally came with such a debt applied. He would die if refused and also die if he tried to harm Harry while completing it. The only downside was that Harry couldn't order him to do something that would mean Snape would directly cause himself harm.

Of course the reason that Snape was so afraid was that many had died by trying to complete the order by suffering indirect harm.

This was where Harry's understanding of Snapes character came into play. Harry knew that, rightly or wrongly, Snape viewed himself as the consummate Slytherin. Snape therefore, while he wouldn't be able to directly disobey the order, would always be looking for the best angle for himself and (if he could manage it) to pervert Harry's intended goals. He would also hate, more than anything, to do a Potters bidding but he would also never refuse the chance to survive slim though it was.

I am certain, Harry thought, that he is already dismissing his defeat at my hands as the interference of the debt rather than any skills I might have gained. He could never believe that a Potter, especially me, could learn anything useful despite hard evidence to the contrary.

Not only had Snape come to that very conclusion but, when Harry proceeded to explain what he wanted, and then used the Command to make Snape do so he was all too ready to agree. He was looking for escape routes even now and, finding none, was planning his ultimate revenge in the back of his mind. After although Harry had been careful to instruct him on what to do while under his thrall afterwards he would be his own man again.

Harry wasn't completely foolish, no matter what Snape might think, and so his orders had included denying Snape every conceivable way of communicating his predicament to anyone or anything else.

It galled Snape that there would be no way of giving away the bondage that he was under.

"Oh and Snape" said Harry after releasing him and allowing him to stand so that he could complete his task.

Snape turned to look at the brat even as a spell hit him out of nowhere and caused a great many shallow gashes to appear on the one handed man and Snape fell, into a boneless, pain filled, and bloody heap. "That's for Hedwig you utter bastard". He thought for a moment and then added "It might also help with your task as well".

Without another word Harry popped away as silently as he came as he had a meeting with the Longbottoms, long put off, to get to.

Snape, for his part and when he could finally stand again, left to basically seal but not truly heal his wounds and bide his time until it was the moment for him to act.

Two hours after Snape's disappearance had been reported to him Dumbledore had finally managed to track down the books required on the ritual for the moment when he would, willing or not, draw Harry to him much like a magnet draws iron. Unfortunately for his plans before he could go and retrieve the required ingredients he was once again loudly interrupted by a bang of his door.

This time however it would be forgiven as Dumbledore saw that his most useful pawn had returned. Severus Snape staggered in as the door flew open, clearly injured and missing a hand, very pale and radiating exhaustion to Dumbledore's senses.

"My dear boy" began Dumbledore privately enjoying the micro expression that passed across Snape's face. Every single time that he used that term he reminded Snape that the man's life was not his own, that Dumbledore owned him, and that he was free only by Dumbledore's word. Dumbledore was titillated by such complete means of control. He had well and truly made Snape his creature as far as he was concerned. "I was afraid we had lost you".

He was of course in reality unconcerned with Snape's injuries as well as his thoughts except in relation to how they might inhibit Snape's usefulness.

The grandfatherly concern that was plastered all over his face had duped so many people over the years that by now he had the expression down to an artform. Those who knew him well, or at least were his closest tools (outside of Hagrid), had seen at least flashes of his true face underneath the mask.

The mask, though well crafted, was only skin deep and behind it was the soul of a man who planned months, if not years ahead, and did so with a towering and cold intelligence that most outside observers would be quick to point out that it was remarkable not only for his depth but also for the fact that the majority of the wizards seemed to lack it.

It was fair to say that Severus Snape hated the man, though he did hate many, and Albus knew it as well as relished it. Hate was predictable and the people that were ruled by it were easily controllable to him as he had been plying his trade for decades. It was also fair to say that Snape didn't hate Albus as much as he hated Potter it was certainly more than he ever could have hated Voldemort.

Then again Snape detested every person he met on some level. The only people that he withheld from his disdain were himself and Lily Evans (she was never a Potter in his head as she had been unfairly stolen from him ias far as he was concerned).

Maybe that's why, Snape thought suddenly, I am obeying Potters command so easily. Part of me wants to do this...part of me hates Dumbledore that much.

Snape was right about that, to a point, as intent and emotion always helped to empower magic and that had far more effect on witches and wizards than they would ever admit. Another fact that he would never admit, even to himself, was that Potter was much more powerful than he ever could hope to be.

Potter's magical power didn't just tower over his, it subjugated and dominated it. That didn't mean a lot in any meaningful sense except that, on a purely instinctual level, Snape's magic recognised that it was and always would be less than Harry's. In simple terms Harry's magic, his command, impacted Snape's which, in turn, acted on his emotional state and made him more inclined to agree helped along, of course, by Snapes existing hatred for Dumbledore.

Wizards were not human, but rather near-human, and their very make up reflected that in how entwined their magic was to their emotional states and, like standard humans, were deeply affected by their emotions. They were impacted much more than they knew.

"I have located Harry Potter" Snape replied while he ignored, for the moment, the Headmaster's tone as well as his own irritation.

"Where is he? Where is Harry?" demanded Dumbledore sharply. Snape's throat constricted as he was aware that now would have been the perfect time to betray the lucky brat but, after accepting the Command and it's explicit conditions, as much as a great part of him wanted to he was prevented from doing so by his own magic. The physical pressure on his throat was a stark reminder of this simple fact.

"In a small Manor in France. The wards are impressive and though they burned off my hand I did manage to temporarily disable a few, though those that remain are extensive. They even appear to have some barrier that I have never seen targeted at an animal... possibly Fawkes".

If Snape had one great talent it was that he was a passionate and straight faced liar. Dumbledore, for his part, understood that the complexity of magic would allow for things that he had never thought possible so the barrier that stopped Fawkes, while exceedingly far fetched, was not beyond the realm of impossibility.

Added to that he had no reason to doubt Severus. He had made him, long ago, swear many interconnected and overlapping oaths of loyalty that would prevent any harm coming to him from Snape without his permission.

What Dumbledore had forgotten, mostly because his impressions of Harry were still those of an uneducated pawn and that impression was very slow to change in his mind, was that the life debt that Snape owed (and therefore the ensuing Command) superseded those oaths as the root cause was far older than the oaths that he had made Snape swear.

Besides, thought Snape, though his intelligence is a great asset of his he doesn't do well without a lot of planning and he's been doing too much of that of late. He is too in love with his own myth of a benign elder statesman who always outsmarts and outmaneuvers his enemies.

"What about the people that are with him?" Asked Dumbledore making the understandable mistake that Harry was either being held or taught by powerful people and under the thrall of their 'corrupting' influence.

Snape of course didn't know one way or the other nor did he care at this moment but, even if he had known, he had no desire to correct him.

"Gone. They are chasing after me I assume. If we are to retrieve Potter we must do so quickly before they return".

"Then let's not waste any time my boy" said Dumbledore as they swiftly left Hogwarts exactly to Harry's plan.

As soon as they were gone Harry flamed in (thanks to Whimsy) and immobilised both the paintings and the Sorting Hat. He was possibly being too cautious as he was fully masked and armoured but, if he had learned anything, it was that it never hurt to be too prepared. Even if they had somehow resisted his magic they shouldn't have been able to tell who he was anyway.

"Thank you Whimsy" Harry said quietly from behind his mask knowing that, thanks to Fawkes, any ancient wards that Hogwarts had (if any had been placed and then lost to time) had to be inactive if they ever existed in the first place. Fawkes was the reason that Harry was here and, given his companion's long and sorrowful trill he didn't think that this would end all that well.

It had baffled Harry, since he was able to understand and appreciate such things, how and why Fawkes had bonded with Dumbledore in the first place and why he had stayed with him given everything that he had done. Harry had originally come here to force some answers, with whimsy's help, and possibly to take care of the problem quickly and quietly.

He wasn't baffled anymore, later he would be utterly furious but at this moment, he was filled with a deep sorrow that caused his throat to tighten and his eyes prickle with unshed tears. From the soft cooing sounds that Whimsy made she saw the same thing that he did when she looked at Fawkes. As Fawkes had began to shake and cry silently it seemed that he knew it too.

Fawkes was bound.

As Harry looked at the bird with all of his senses he could see the malignant black bonds that encased him and kept him under Dumbledore's thumb. He also knew that he could break them and set Fawkes free from the slavery that he was forced to endure but he was not sure if he should. The breaking was the was the easy part but the hard truth was that, if he did, Fawkes would die.

Binding a phoenix in this way was an act of utter selfishness and considered as bad a crime as mass murder because, if not broken exceptionally early, it would kill the phoenix eventually like a cancer. No one was completely sure but it was believed that the process was formed from observing and studying how magic interacted with House Elves.

Unlike other natural bonds that could occur between magical species, though they were very rare, both were not equal partnerships. The House Elves for example had much more natural magic than wizard core magic and the phoenixes seemed to be self renewing furnaces of the former when they were observed with certain tools or mage sight.

The unnatural bond that was created with a phoenix was worse than any other and no one had done such a horrendous and appalling thing in centuries. It was abhorrent even to the darkest of wizards.

What Dumbledore had done was to capture Fawkes during one of his burning days, in the actual act of burning, and rip a portion of Fawkes's life and magic while it was the most fluid and forcibly entwine it with his own.

This had formed an unnatural tie between the two that resulted in two very beneficial effects for the wizard involved. The wizard in question gained a much longer lifespan, perhaps an extra century or so, and the simple fact that with every single burning day they would leech a little more of the phoenixes prodigious magic and claim it as their own.

The last benefit was also why it was considered such a despicable crime because, like the House Elves, the magnificent bird became more and more reliant on the wizards magic to sustain itself and once part of its own magic was taken it could never get it back. It was like an open wound that would never heal and it widened with every single burning.

The phoenix (that would otherwise be immortal) would get closer and closer to death as the ratio of the, now wizard magic, that they could 'borrow' to make up the difference was limited and eventually in no way proportionate to the magic that was taken from them. Eventually Fawkes, if he remained bound, would enter a burning day but be unable to complete his regeneration and instead of being born he would die from his own flames in unspeakable agony.

Then he would simply become ash on the cold wind.

"How long?" Harry asked with concern radiating from his voice. Fawkes was not stupid and understood the question and sounded a short note back allowing Harry to understand that, even with the bond in place and sustaining him, Fawkes did not have long with only perhaps a few years left at best. Whimsy crooned a sad note and Harry agreed with his sentiment as it was only a blink of the eye to the eternal creatures.

"What do you want me to do?" Harry continued to ask and he was quickly answered by another short and beautiful note that caused Harry to weep inside his mask silently. "I understand" he said thickly.

Fawkes wanted to end it on his own terms and, to Fawkes, a life of slavery was no life at all.

Slowly gathering his magic and shaping it into the tiniest point that he could manage he wielded it like a scalpel. He slowly started to destroy the intricate bonds that had held Fawkes for so long against his will. As soon as it was done Fawkes slumped in pain and his feathers dulled slightly as he was already beginning to fade. In direct contrast however the musical sound that escaped his throat was nothing short of triumphant.

Harry looked on, immensely sad, knowing that Fawkes would die within a day or so.

It was horrible, Harry thought, but it is Fawkes choice and all I can do is respect his choice and remember him for what he should have been not what he was forced to be. At least he will die free and on his own terms.

"Is there anything that I can do for you? Is there anything that would make you more comfortable?" Fawkes shook his head in response and and, with one last grateful look, both he and Whimsy disappeared in a flash of fire.

Harry shook his own head and then sighed slowly and deeply as he continued with his original plan raised his ebony wand and pointing it through the open window he softly spoke.

"Morsmordre" as the lurid and horrible mark filled the sky Harry knew he had only seconds to leave. He almost ran the short distance to the Headmaster's fireplace and grabbed a pinch of floo powder leaving just as the office door burst open.

The first through the door was a frightened and confused Mcgonagall with her wand drawn as well as Hagrid. All they saw, aside from the Dark Mark in the sky, was the flames slowly turning from a bright green to a more natural orange.

Dumbledore felt a momentary weakness and gasped quietly as he and Snape crossed the protections of Bluestone but he wrongly assumed that it was the strength and age of the remaining wards that caused it.

Whoever had designed and placed these wards, he thought, was incredibly gifted and will be difficult to deal with, if I have to deal with him or even them.

His estimation of Snape rose as he saw evidence of how powerful these current wards were and he could only imagine the strength of the more active wards that he must have taken down to allow them to get this far. Not to mention distracting and drawing out the captors that lived in and covered the house. He had to admit to himself though that, as far as safehouses went, it was much more appealing than Sirius's old house.

The major downside for the two men was that, thanks to the remaining wards, it had taken some time for them to poke a small gap and enter the house. The time taken was a worry to the two men as they didn't know how long they had before people returned.

"Do you know where they are keeping him?" asked Dumbledore while keeping a wary eye out for any returning guards as that would make things complicated when they had expended magic in getting this far.

Technically not only should they not be there but, as Dumbledore was Britain's representative to the I.C.W., if caught it would be a death sentence to Snape and highly embarrassing for his international reputation at best and seen as treason against the magical community at worst.

"Somewhere in the back was all I could guess I'm afraid. Let's get the brat and get out of here as quickly as possible". Dumbledore smiled internally as, as sure as the sun would rise the next day, Snape's hatred of the Potter family made him (he believed) as predictable and controllable as always.

As they both moved through the property, with Dumbledore taking the lead, Albus was uneasy at how quiet Bluestone was but dismissed it even as also he dismissed the beautifully tasteful surroundings being intent only on returning Harry to his rightful possession.

As he finally entered one of the last rooms at the end of the Manor the sense of impending danger spiked in his mind even he saw, not the stark prison room that he expected but, a prepared and waiting ritual room that would have been the pride of many Ancient and Noble Houses even if (due to current British Ministry law) it went unused.

He half turned to ask Severus what was happening and to guard the door as he investigated but, before he could utter a word, the man snapped his own wand cleanly in two even as a spark of bright white magic floated from Severus.

The universal signal of a debt fulfilled.

After that, for the briefest moment, Snape slumped as if a great weight had been lifted from him.

Dumbledore realised the true depth of his error when a masked man faded into view at the other end of the room and quickly disarmed him. His own wand had somehow flown towards the man, as he was watching Severus slump, before he could even react. To Dumbledore's horror the Elder wand bonded with the man in front of him in a great show of sparks the minute it landed in his palm.

The masked man shrugged, pocketing the wand, but before he could do more Snape bellowed and charged at the enemy. There was a crazed look in his eye and his mouth was open like a hungry beast as he ran full tilt.

Dumbledore, being overwhelmed in shock, could only stare at the impossibly fast and powerful slap that echoed across the room. Snape flew across the room and landed so hard in the wall next to Dumbledore that the wall shook from the impact and he slumped to the ground already out cold.

The masked man slowly removed his mask and smirked, the utter gobsmacked look on Dumbledore's face was clear, as the two men finally looked at each other in the eye for the first time in a very long time. With a wave of Harry's hand Dumbledore was fully immobilized except for his head.

"Headmaster" said Harry with utter loathing in his voice. "It's time we talked".

It remained to be seen whether Dumbledore would have anything useful to say but he would make him _sing_ regardless.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24: Death and Loose Ends

25th July 2000 - 30th July 2000

110 BBY

3,543 ATC

North Hold

Sirius smiled as sweat moved down his body enjoying working again after being confined to his own house and before that Azkaban. He had then been slowly rehabilitated on his journey here, at least physically, though he had been asleep for much of it.

It felt good, he thought, to be working again on something worthwhile even if it was under such a strange sky with different stars.

Sometimes he still found himself wanting to disbelieve the Flamels explanation and if it wasn't for the red sun in the sky above him, not to mention the fact that Flamel had given an oath on his life and magic, the fact that Sirius was standing on a whole new world was more than enough to convince him of Flamels truthfulness as was the ship that brought him here.

As a former Hit Wizard Sirius had to, at one point, interact with the muggle world more than most of his fellows in the Auror Department let alone other Pureblood Heirs (as he was for a time). The people that they were sent after had often managed to evade the law for some time already it was quite common for them to slip into the muggle world when they felt the net closing in.

So, more than most of Wizarding Britain's elite anyway, he had some small inkling of how fantastical the ship that carried him away as well as all of the other things that he had seen since. He certainly had plenty of questions for his Godson when he saw him next. For now though Harry had given him something that he had been missing for quite some time.

He had a purpose once again.

He was also beyond angry when he was informed by Nicolas Flamel of Dumbledore's manipulations when it came to Harry as well as the very great likelihood that that Sirius himself had been manipulated or poisoned since his escape. Thankfully, during his converleance, any and all things like that were removed while he slept though he wasn't told (and he hadn't asked) if any had been found in his system.

Often he found his thoughts turning, not only to Harry but, to Remus and he wished that his friend could have come with him.

Between himself, the Flamels, and a few of the more experienced magic users (who just so happened to be not only Curse Breakers recruited but also with their loyalty vetted by Gringotts) had begun to give all eighteen worlds of the twelve systems magic and the simple fact of having something to do as well as see new worlds was both liberating and intoxicating.

In his downtime (a literal turn of phrase for him when his magic was often drained very low performing the ritual to grant a whisper of power to these new worlds) he studied the history of this newly minted Commonwealth that he found himself in.

There were quite a few surprises for Harry when he returned, Sirius thought, and when he does return I just hope I will be there to watch his face as he discovers them. Though in all fairness he only has himself to blame. He had, after all, issued specific orders before he left for his droids (including his Holodroids that acted quite often literally in his name).

The success of those plans really started and ended with his decision to accept Republic refugees fleeing both from the immediate financial fallout of his last actions as well as his reputation as a Jedi Lord. That was on top of colonists from already friendly worlds as well as his own people wishing to be pioneers of this new frontier.

On top of that there was the progressive way that Harry had insisted on education and health for his people. It seemed that not a single week went by without there at least being plans for a new school, hospital or library being built. The eighteen worlds already had five top standard universities and it's expansion did not seem to have an end in sight.

This meant that, with the corruption of both the Republic and the Wizarding World, this small collection of independent worlds was turning into a shining beacon of hope against the loss, sorrow, anger, bigotry and hardship that each person had faced in their original situations. The fact that they were getting overtures, though only faint ones, from both the Merfolk and the Veela was a case in point.

Added to that, on the Republic side of things, the Potter families reputation had only grown with time and their name was now synonymous with compassion and freedom in some planets in the Outer Rim. Some planets were just as likely, if not more so, to call Spero for help in adjudicating disputes for example as they once would the Jedi or the Senate.

Harry's secret longevity was, sort of, out in the open now. Given that (between the two melding sources of population) the people had a working 'knowledge' of both the Force and the Philosopher's Stone as well as the fact that both Flamels were here they were surprisingly accepting of a near immortal leader.

That was not to say that it wasn't hard for some to get their heads around it at first and, of course, no one came close to knowing how it was achieved but given the advantages in the Commonwealth they found it a very small price to pay. Eventually they would accept that immortality as a constant much like they accepted the stars themselves. Of course both the Elves and the Goblins had no problem with it as they were well aware of that little fact before they ever left Earth.

Security against external threats for the burgeoning power was not a problem either as, though slightly amoral, a solution was found almost as soon as the last of the first waves of ships from Earth had landed.

Between Wizards like Sirius (who felt indebted to either Harry or the Nation) and the few goblins who had easily rediscovered their aptitude with wands they had instituted a 'health' check on all citizens as well as a quarantine on all future visitors. This of course was largely not needed but, thanks to the trust that the Potter family had built as well as the promise of a new life and the relative novelty of magic, no one had balked at the compulsory health check.

This had been the combined brainchild of Sirius and the Flamels as, though obviously not quite in their league, being a marauder had required inventive thinking more than once in his life. Neither he or they were excluded from it either as they had performed it on each other first. This was, in a very small part, a show of unity and largely because it did have beneficial effects even if that was not the main point.

They had started with the fifty or so wizards that had come with the Nation and roughly half of them would form the core group (for now) that would continue the health checks while the other half would join Sirius (in teams of four) on awakening other worlds. Both required multiple wizards as, though it was hardly mentioned, none of them even came close to Harry's raw magical power and therefore had to work in concert.

The process involved taking a small amount of freely given blood (the magicals did need a oath that any left over blood would be destroyed straight afterwards and in some cases watched it being done) and inscribing a set of runes on the ribcage of the subject that disappeared as they sank into the skeleton of the target.

The amoral part was that only the Flamels and Sirius (and later Harry and Luna) would ever be aware that the longevity that the runes provided, around an extra fifty years across the board, were only a minor component of the runes and had worded the few magical oaths they had to give very carefully to avoid revealing that fact.

It was not harmful to the people of the Commonwealth in any way nor did it take away their free will. The main continuous effect that it had was essentially a rune based hybrid between a wizarding Notice-Me-Not and a subconscious form of occlumency. They were able to do this primarily because of all of Nicolas's research on creating the Philosopher's Stone and his other pursuits as the runes sank into the marrow and was there continuously present in the blood.

This hybrid meant that details of their home, if the people ever chose to leave it or were willfully taken from it, would be fuzzy and dim in their minds. It also gently encouraged, but didn't actually stop, those that did leave from talking about their former home and to be generally less inclined to do so anyway.

Sirius knew enough to know, from both Nicolas and the newly transplanted Black Library, that this very complex solution was one of many options for the problem of the Commonwealth's security. All of the other tried and tested solutions, whether simple or complex, in some way suppressed or supplanted the free will of their subject to a very large degree.

That this was as abhorrent to Harry as it was to him was something that Sirius was more than grateful for. Not that this new system didn't have an element of that, especially as the true purpose was applied in secret, but, like most similar institutions of government, the Silver Commonwealth (it's new full name though hardly anyone in the systems used it) had to take the safety and security of its members very seriously if it wanted to continue to exist.

Given that Sirius was happy to help as much as he could but, he had honestly thought, when the Flamels had suggested what he do next that they were trying to prank him. It was only after they had informed him that Harry himself had put his name forward that he realised that they were serious in their request.

They had asked him to become the Deputy Headmaster at the first (and currently only) school for magical training that the Commonwealth had. It was called the Royal Institute for Sorcery and Spells or just the Institute for short.

After he had gotten over the fact that it was not a prank and that they actually wanted him to help mold young minds he had found himself warming to the idea. The fact that the newly constructed Institute was less than a few minutes from Harry's tower (when he returned) was a nice bonus as well.

He had accepted, after a small time to think through his many options, and had even approved of allowing any sentient with the gift of magic to study there. This was both, in part at least, to spite his close minded upbringing as well as the fact that the city of New Atlantis never needed to deal with the fallout of a Goblin Rebellion.

Many of the teaching positions were going to be filled with former Curse Breakers and disenfranchised muggleborns but, as Harry had planned so long before, Pernelle would become the Headmistress of the new school.

This fact helped soothe the few purebloods and half bloods that had joined them (thanks in no small part to Neville's grandmother) as having a figure step out of the history books and legend to teach was a great draw for the new school. It had, more than most things, helped many to agree to journey here with their families rather than pursue their futures on the Earth.

When he had first visited the marbled and shining city Sirius had been struck most by the feeling of hope and happiness that seemed to embrace it like a lover.

It was more than the fact that the former refugees turned colonists had found a home, more than the artful gleaming buildings, more than the magic in the air that seemed to nourish everything it touched, more than the tame(ish) dragons that chased playful phoenixes over their heads, more than a beautiful sky or even the fact that more planets were being colonized and terraformed even now almost as soon as each batch of colonists arrived.

It was simply the determination, the defiance, that led to to such a haven being built that inspired so. The universe was often unfair but the people here were united in a common cause and that was the desire to not repeat the mistakes of the past that had led them to being here in the first place. They were all determined that this place would not become another British Ministry or bloated Republic but strive to balance themselves and the worlds around them to simply find a better way.

Sirius, from almost the first moment his feet had touched the ground, had realised that he was not alone in this desire and had not been the least bit surprised when the people coming from the Wizarding World did not wish to be called Wizards or Witches anymore. It had simply too many bad connotations for all of the cultures that lived in the Commonwealth and, in homage for what the original Atlantis had once represented, had taken again the older term of Magi.

Magi, or Magi of the First Order, would be graduates (or the equivalent) of the Institutes F.M.C. or First Magical Certificate which was on par with the O.W.L.'s in structure if not in content. The Master Magi would pass the S.M.C. which was again on par with the N.E.W.T.'s and the Lord or Lady Magi would hold at least one mastery of a subject.

Sirius himself found it amusing that, even without his former title as Lord Black, he was now a Lord twice over.

This was all not to say that they had no problems. Aside from the obvious culture clashes and the knowledge gap between them as well as the period of adjustment (and frantic learning that it would cause) there would always be threats to what they were trying to create.

For just one example planet security, or policing, was currently being done only by droids but it was not a large issue as there were already people training to augment or supplant that force in the near future.

Then there were external threats. The tattoos, combined with a room that positively glowed with truth and compulsion runes even to normal sight where they were applied, had already ferreted out eight spies for the Republic (the ban on the planet having been lifted some one hundred years prior), twelve for various galaxy wide merchant companies including the Intergalactic Banking Clan, three from the Hutts, four from various pirate groups and at least two from the Sith.

All but those from the Sith and the Republic were mined for information and then had their memories erased and, as an added defence, had the blood runes placed on them while they recovered and would be otherwise unaware. There was an added component to their, slightly different, tattoos though. If they ever had their memories restored or the block removed then their minds would quickly collapse in on themselves. They were then released with a strong compulsion to return home.

The Commonwealth had no sympathy for spies.

The proven Sith spies, once they had gathered that they had no useful information to give, were then simply killed deemed a security risk that was too great given who their masters were.

The Hutts and the Merchant Associations were given a stern warning that, if they ever tried such actions again, then there would be dire consequences. The fact that a few of them had managed to wipe their returned spies minds beyond all usefulness meant that, for the moment at least, the Commonwealth was being believed.

As Harry had secretly been building ships since had first set up his Forge (as that was the main reason for the massive magically expanding and still growing Hangar underground) and their spies had been delivered using two retrofitted and redesigned ships that had started out as the old and slightly defunct _Hammerhead_ class cruisers that were almost bursting at the seams with droids might have had something to do with it as well.

The Republic was shocked, to say the least, when they saw a few of their old ships entering their space when their people were returned but were not too alarmed. They had after all sold the basic design of the cruisers years ago once they had demilitarised after the Mandalorian Wars and their current technology (which they believed surpassed these) had moved on. The final Republic spy, sent after the warning was given, had his mind destroyed.

Though the idea of destroying minds makes me slightly uncomfortable, thought Sirius, but it is still better than what the Dementors would have done. Their minds may have been destroyed but their souls were untouched and eventually they would be free of their vegetative state.

Still despite the problems that they had suffered Sirius was more than happy with his lot and couldn't help but feel a brand new day dawning and feel true hope for the future. The only thing that he was left wondering was when he would next see Harry.

Harry meanwhile stared down at Dumbledore, struggling with that old hatred, as he saw the practiced and fake disappointment etched on his enemies face. He had to struggle not to simply punch the whiskered wanker in the face and stop him from ever making that expression ever again.

Beyond him Snape was still laying on the floor out cold.

Looking at the man before him Harry mastered, for the moment, his hatred and thought about all the things that he could say to the man before him. He sighed feeling a great deal of emptiness deep in his chest. This was necessary and, despite the flash of hatred he had at first, much of it had been tempered over time and he really just wanted to get this moment done.

Dumbledore had to talk however and for Harry's part it was because he wanted him fully aware of what was going to happen to him but for Dumbledore there was always another angle and another way to shape the future to his liking. It was a defining fact of the man's character that he would always look for another angle, another manipulation and another way to control the Great Game.

"I am so very disappointed in you my boy" said Dumbledore while artfully lacing his voice with regret and reproach. At least it would have been artful to others but Harry had been manipulated by the Sith and it was therefore incredibly clumsy even without taking into account what he knew of the man before him.

Harry merely snorted in response, refusing to rise to that bait, and began to drag Snape's unconscious body to within Dumbledore's eye line.

The Sith had also taught Harry a multitude of questionable (to say the least) including the most effective ways to torture, harm and interrogate his enemies. Of course they had also managed to teach him how to harness his emotions for deeply negative and destructive ends.

When it came to manipulation and coercion, especially with someone's voice or body language, his former Sith Master found that he had taken to it like a fish to water. His master had not realised of course that, as far as 'normal' humans went Harry had already gained a true education the hard way from the master that was Albus Dumbledore.

I can't credit the man with much actual direct teaching, thought Harry, but I did learn more about it by reviewing my memories of his interaction with people than I ever did with the Sith.

It was at that point in his musings that Dumbledore distracted his thoughts. Albus had finally realised not only exactly where he was but possibly a slight inkling of what he was here for and had to fight a feeling of mounting horror with a startled gasp.

This was, after all, one of the most complete (and also one of the most utilitarian) ritual rooms that he had ever seen or heard of in his very long life. Worse, now that he was able to focus on it for a moment, the nature and design of its runic circles and seals showed that it was a very old one.

Dumbledore's finely tuned senses confirmed his suspicion that it was very old one, hundreds of years at least, as the long and arduous process of meshing it's imbued power with the Earth's natural churning magnificence was complete and had been for some time.

"You know" Harry said conversationally as he held Snape upright before the worried man using only the Force. "You often told me that I should put aside my hatred for this retch and learn from this pond scum". The twin hatred and disgust in his voice entranced Dumbledore more than any spell ever could. "Well" Harry continued "you were half right".

With that Harry's palm came up and slammed violently into Severus's forehead as Harry began to forcibly shred it for any useful information. Unlike any other time that he had deliberately done taken information in this way Harry did so with deliberate slowness. He was also destroying every single element of Snape's mind that he came across as he went but did so in such away that Snape was aware of what he was doing.

It really was no wonder then when Snape began to unendingly scream.

To the watching Dumbledore it was as if whatever Harry was doing was the most painful thing that he had ever seen. The sound that came from Snape, only breaking for him to breathe and begin again, wasn't even human to his ears but more like one of a tortured animal being carved into small pieces while still alive.

Then, as quickly as it started, it was over. The still breathing and yet utterly lifeless and blank body of Severus Snape fell to the ground in an unresponsive heap.

"What have you done!" Dumbledore screamed in utter shock and not a little fear.

"I did what you _supposedly_ wanted. I learned from Snape...every single piece of training, every scrap of diseased knowledge and every piece of useful information is now in my head. I also completely annihilated his mind in the slowest and most painful way possible that I knew how".

"And let me guess" Dumbledore said bitterly his mask slipping and a hate filled look stealing over his face and venom dripping from his voice. "You are now going to do the same to me?"

"And there he is" Harry said with satisfaction and all anger draining from his voice and outward body language. He was surprised by how good it felt to get a reaction from the normally calm looking and hateful man. "The Grand Manipulator, the Bearded Wanker in the flesh!" Harry paused and then continued "Isn't it a little freeing? Don't you get tired of playing the saintly grandfather routine for me? Isn't it nice to just let it go?".

"What I have done" began Dumbledore pompously is for the Greater Good of Wizarding Kind and if you were older and wiser than a small petty minded teenager you would see that".

"Somehow I doubt that" replied Harry ignoring the sudden irrational urge to point out that, in a certain sense, they were now almost the same age. "Even I, as deficient as you believe me to be, can see the immediate flaw in your argument. There is no such thing as the Greater Good, not mine, not yours, not Grindelwald's and certainly not the Wizarding Worlds. At best there are only people trying to do the best they can hoping against hope that their lesser goods have some effect and that maybe, just maybe, they are remembered".

"You are as close minded as your grandparents" snarled Dumbledore.

"Thank you for the compliment" answered Harry "but I don't believe for one second that you subscribe to your own hype anyway. No...this is about power and control...it always is with you. You want to own the entirety of the Wizarding World and, more than anything else, you want me dead to your plan because I represent the one thing you truly hate….which, now that I think about it is ironic considering I'm under the yoke of a prophecy".

"And what is that?" Asked Dumbledore intrigued despite himself.

"Choice. Free Will. The determination to fight against the odds, your odds, to freely think, call it what you will. There is no room for free thinkers in your dystopia".

"I see that you have succumbed to the lure of the Dark Arts and madness" stated Dumbledore trying, once again, to project deep sorrow in his voice and with his well worn grandfather mask back in place. "Do whatever it is you are going to do but, if you think the fight ends with me then you are wrong. When you leave this place you will find no friends and enemies behind every door. I am only sad that i couldn't save you, that I couldn't set you down the proper path. There is still time though Harry... if only you are willing?".

Harry had to hand it to the man he never gave up. The sorrow, regret, hope and even anguish were so artfully balanced and conveyed in both his voice and facial expression that if Harry had worn a hat he would have taken it off to the man. He knew better than to believe him though and so ignored the question.

"Enemies? Because of your successor you mean?" Dumbledore gaped, truly startled, but said nothing. "What part of all of Snape's knowledge did you not understand? The man was a pimple on the arse of life certainly but he was also a very effective double agent". Dumbledore's mouth set into a thin line even as his eyes hardened into stone. "What? no witty comeback to that? That's fine as I already knew anyway but, between you and me, it's always nice to have clarification of facts and vindication for one's actions". When there was no comment forthcoming he continued "Still not talking? No? The only thing I don't know is if he was your agent throughout or if he only became one after you healed him?"

Harry caressed the hilt of his lightsaber with one hand and looked down briefly at Snape before he continued speaking. "Still I'm not going to turn you into a vegetable as I have something _special_ planned for you. Not only have you hurt me more than Snape ever did, most of his actions were engineered or otherwise allowed by you after all, but quite frankly my mind currently feels like it's carrying a fetid swamp around. I'll be cleaning up all traces of that oily git for a week and Force knows how tainted and corrupted my mind would be if I did that to you. Knowing you as I do so well I'm sure that you have some hidden plan or defence in your mind for an occasion like this".

Seeing Dumbledore's crestfallen look, as well as the fact that Dumbledore was a master of occlumency years before Harry was even imagined and a magical researcher since his late teens, and the fact that in theory magic could do almost anything with the right application of will and power (Harry was proof enough of that given the fact that he had survived the Killing Curse) he saw that he was right. "But first..."

As Harry advanced on Dumbledore (intending to slowly dice what was left of Snape before the man's horrified eyes) Fawkes flames in with a soft thrill as well as a whoosh of flame and in his talons he was carrying something.

The body of Hedwig.

"Fawkes! Free me!" Shouted Dumbledore. He was more than a little taken back when, instead of the freedom that he was expecting, he received a hate filled hiss in return. It was so full of that negative emotion in fact that it made Harry's teeth vibrate and ache. As soon as it was finished though Harry couldn't help himself and burst into laughter at the expression on Fawkes face.

Fawkes turned to Harry, after releasing his bowls at Dumbledore (though the 'package' fell short of its target) and trilled a long and complex note full of sadness and joy at Harry for a long moment. Harry's face turned from confusion to shock and then finally to an almost guarded wonder.

"Really? You can use him?" Asked Harry followed by another short trill "If that's what you want my friend who am I to say no?" Harry's voice was full of solemn reverence.

Harry turned to Dumbledore after a long moment communing with the ancient bird. "Nicolas is going to be so pissed at me for this". Apparently the amount of revelations that Dumbledore had received had frozen his face as, apart from a widening of his eyes and increase in his breathing, he didn't react physically. "Please. Did you really think that Nicolas Flamel, with all his years of experience, would never see any warning of your true self? Of your true motives? With all the years that he had on the Earth I'm sure that he figured it out fairly quickly and if he didn't I'm sure his wife did. I'd say never get on the wrong side of her but, well, that won't be a problem for you. I digress, as he did obviously, and he prepared this…" Harry pulled out a faintly glowing yellow vial from an inner pocket of his robes "just in case. I have to say that it was stupid of you to so carelessly destroy his Stone as I don't know anyone else idiotic enough to risk his anger. Until that point he was quite willing to simply outlive you but then, after that travesty, he made this and also made me promise to use it on you".

Harry looked over to Fawkes and then back to Dumbledore even as the bird stared at the two very different men in interest. Fawkes also had his wings flared protectively over Hedwig's body seemingly content to wait for Harry to act. "Now I'm going to break that promise".

With that Harry dumped the vile concoction down the throat of the husk that used to be Severus Snape and, following Fawkes's instruction, began to chant softly at first and then in a rising crescendo. Harry had never channelled such power (and he silently vowed to never do so again) and he struggled even as all of the runic circles and arrays light up with what appeared to be starlight.

A pillar of white power began to trickle like a river from the earth beneath Harry's feet even as he broke into a sweat and some of his own magic joined in. Even as that was happening a dark grey mist began pouring from Snape's mouth, nose, ears and eyes and they all combined into a boiling multi coloured cloud. This led to Severus Snape losing all of his magic and Harry becoming nearly exhausted.

Still he kept chanting and slowly, as if herded by Harry's strong and yet somehow tired voice, and the brightening starlight from the arrays themselves the cloud moved over to Fawkes who was still covering the body of Hedwig. As the mist touched them and enclosed them Fawkes let loose one great final cry. It was sorrowful, triumphant, beautiful and heartbreaking all at once.

It was also Fawkes's last goodbye and his last gift to Harry as well as to the memory of Hedwig.

Both animals burst into flames roaring together and consuming both the mist and the starlight from the runic circles. They sucked it in like a babe at his mother's breast or a wildfire demanding fuel. When the mist finally dissipated and the flames died down the bodies of Fawkes and Hedwig had gone. More than that the magic of Severus Snape had finally been put to good use.

Where the flames once were there wasn't just the ash that one might expect from such a flame but also a large white egg that was marbled throughout with streaks of red. As far as he knew both Fawkes and Hedwig had gone on to their next great adventure so the egg puzzled him but, with a mental shrug, he decided to leave that particular mystery for later.

Harry tried to turn and then found himself staggering as it finally hit him how much magic he had used in helping Fawkes with his last request. It would take quite a few pepper up potions just to get through the day after he was done here but there was never a chance that he would have refused. After all it _was_ his last request.

He did realise that the reason the ritual had called to his magic probably had something to do with the remains of the bond that he once shared with Hedwig but, thankfully, he felt no perverse bindings between him and the egg. His magic showed him nothing and the Force was full of what he could only roughly interpret as anticipation.

He still wasn't looking forward to the crash later when the potions borrowed energy left him though.

"So what now?" Sneered Dumbledore interrupting the beautiful moment of wonder that he had just witnessed. "What will you do now that your plan for revenge is ruined?" The malicious glee in his voice was almost physically sickening to Harry but he merely smiled a thin and bitter grin.

"Ruined?" Disagreed Harry with a biting and sardonic tone "Surely the great Headmaster would realise that I have a backup plan? I did after all learn from you whether I wanted to or not and those kinds of lessons leave a mark trust me. Don't worry though that just happened to be Nic's last minute improvement, his personal fuck you, to my plan"

"Which was?"

"Patience Albus. Patience. Besides I think that you might be stalling for time especially now as I am weaker than normal. Do you think that the Order of the Phoenix or perhaps even the Aurors will come a knocking at my door?"

"Oh Harry" smiled Dumbledore with a smile as equally as biting "of course they will. Someone will have seen you leaving and even now the hunt for us will have started in earnest".

"Not so _Albus_ " Harry replied with particular relish "they believe that Snape took you to Voldemort. After all he, a known Death Eater, was seen entering your office and with the Dark Mark hanging in the sky why would they ever suspect poor hiding Harry Potter? I have not actually been seen since the Department of Mysteries after all".

"Really Harry" Dumbledore tried to bluster "stop this nonsense. If you give up now i will ask for leniency on your behalf".

"All so that I can die at the appropriate time of course" accused Harry.

"It is your destiny" Dumbledore affirmed with great conviction.

"According to you" spat Harry. With another twist of his wrist Dumbledore was silenced "Now be quiet. I am trying to work here".

With that Harry moved Snape, now without magic as well as unresisting, out of the way before half carrying, half dragging Dumbledore to the exact center of the ritual room. He then removed from his pocket an artfully made (clearly by the goblins) golden cage, several thorns from english roses, a series of miniature chains and sliced Dumbledore with the potions knife from Snape's boot drawing blood.

The symmetry of that moment, that it was almost in the exact same place that Wormtail had cut him years ago was lost on Dumbledore but perversely amused Harry.

He then slowly and carefully began to arrange the items at equidistant points around the large central ritual circle before, just as easily as he had placed it, removed the silencing charm from Dumbledore.

"Tell me Dumbledore" Harry began slowly "what do you know of the Shackles of Judgement?" Dumbledore's face went so pale at that Harry had to wonder if he had any blood left in his face.

"That ritual is barbaric!" It was willfully lost years ago. We have become more humane since then".

"Because Dementors were so much more humane" was Harry's sarcastic reply.

"When did you get so cold?" Dumbledore asked pointedly, perhaps, seeking a weakness he could exploit. Harry saw no harm in answering him (at least for the moment).

"I am, or at least I started as, a sort of soldier. Soldier's do not build, they do not farm, in fact at best they are charged with doing only one thing. They are there to protect their society, their loved ones, from threats by any means necessary. Threats like you".

"I do what I do to protect and preserve my society!" argued Dumbledore hotly.

"And I do as I must to protect me and mine from you!" Harry roared back. The volume of his voice shocked Dumbledore into silence but Harry was tired of verbally sparring with the evil man. He knew who the Heir of Dumbledore's grand plan was and, he decided then and there, that knowing why wasn't all that important if this was the price.

With one hand then he viciously used the Force to tear out Dumbledore's tongue and with the other he cast, only a moment later, a crude healing spell so that he did not die of blood loss.

Now, thought Harry, the man who lies will lie no more.

"I know you can't speak and _trust me_ the world is better for it. Now to move to your sentence...I am not an enchanter by any means but, using runes and with a lot of time to work on it, I have managed to partially copy one of Merlin's lesser feats just for you. I wonder if, in the back of your mind, you can guess?"

Harry smiled a humourless and pitiless smile when all Dumbledore could do was make inarticulate sounds in response. There would be no more manipulation or double talk from the man ever again. "No? Well I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise and you will find out soon enough, of that, I have no doubt".

Harry nodded behind him and, with a shimmer, a Notice-Me-Not charm faded away with a small ripple in the air. Dumbledore's eyes focused on the area to reveal what appeared to be a new and roughly cut, but pristine, cell that was still partially hidden in the shadows of the room.

As Dumbledore stared longer his experienced eyes noticed a couple of things. First that, though most were covered by darkness, the prison and door way were etched with thousands of tiny runes and second that the cell was missing something that every one of it's fellows he had ever seen needed. A door.

"You know I'm glad in a way that it took me, and friends of mine, years to devise this" Harry commented. "After all it takes years and years for natural magic to soak into something and truly bond on it's own and trying to force it can get very explosive. Trust me I know".

That comment confused Dumbledore as he had no idea where Harry might have learned such things and was enough for his eyes to be drawn back to Harry as his former student began chanting.

The items under Harry's feet burst into flame and melt like ice cubes but, instead of the black that he was half expecting, this time it was the colour of Dumbledore's own magic. Dumbledore knew of the ritual that Harry was trying to perform (though as it had been lost hundreds of years ago he had never, and never wished to have, any desire to perform it) and all he could hope was that it failed.

Soon he realised, with his terror mounting, that it was not going to and like Snape had done minutes before all he could do was scream.

The Shackles of Judgement were one of the things that wizards had once used instead of Dementors but the practice had fallen out of use centuries ago. Though it did not impact the soul in the least, as those foul creatures were wont to do, but it did do something just as abhorrent if not more so.

Dumbledore felt the ritual began its insidious work even now.

The Shackles did not remove magic they twisted and corrupted it. They shattered and changed the magic of the target and reshaped it into something new and used the very magic that was designed to aid the wizard to both imprison and punish them. It was also utterly irreversible and within moments Dumbledore felt the pain that he was feeling reach its peak.

The horrendous act was now in full swing and Dumbledore felt his pain coming in strong and strong sharp waves. He felt his consciousness ebb at the agony of it. Then moments or years later (he honestly wouldn't be able to tell) he felt both his horror realised and blessed relief as it stopped as it was finally and irrevocably done.

If he attempted to use his magic in any way it would cause him mind numbing pain. Worse for him as his magic, in his advanced age, was actively helping to keep him alive it was already causing him slowly increasing agony. The more magic he tried to use the more pain he would be in. Not that he would ever be able to cast a spell ever again but if he tried to do so he would, at the very least, collapse in a heap under the waves of torture that would come.

As this new reality was being absorbed by Dumbledore Harry was already dragging the frozen man into his new cell and, once that was done harry jabbed a syringe of dark silver liquid into his arm.

"My original plan" said Harry with some pride when he could get Dumbledore's attention "forcibly taken unicorn blood. You will never be fed, but even if you were, you will always hunger and that desire will only grow. You will live forever cursed and in agony. Add the Shackles to that and it must be almost intolerable for you to even breathe".

Harry let that sink in before he moved to the next part of Dumbledore's punishment.

"One of Merlin's more famous small acts, even to the muggles, is the story of the Sword in the Stone" Harry lectured. " If you don't remember the story Merlin enchanted a rock one second out of time to keep Excalibur safe".

Dumbledore stared at Harry in confusion and incomprehension obviously wondering why, despite his pain, Harry was telling him this story now.

"As much as I _hate_ time magic I have done something similar here and you will, in effect, be one second out of the time stream compared to anyone else. That plus a runic concealment cluster means no one will ever find you. No Order, no Aurors, no help of any kind. You will forever exist in a state of hunger and agony eternally unfulfilled. Fitting, don't you think, that the man who wanted to shape the future will live it? Aren't you going to thank me?"

Dumbledore made a sound that, if he had a tongue, might have been something exceptionally rude. Harry smiled at that before he continued "More than that… you wanted to direct people's lives and make your own little kingdom. Well here is your very own tiny land that you can rule forever and make every single decision. Enjoy eternally ruling your small little box while being impotent and powerless".

Dumbledore's face crumpled at the knowledge of his hellish future that awaited him. Tears sprang from his eyes even as he wordlessly pleaded with Harry not to do this thing.

Perhaps he hoped that somewhere deep down there was still that needy, young and impressionable boy that he once knew. The fact that Harry had been tempered by years of war, training and pain was something that he could never know. In truth that part of Harry, that innocence, had been lost a long time ago.

"Oh now none of that" said Harry with false sympathy dripping from his voice like acid " I am not heartless. I would never send you in there completely alone".

Harry then, and with a great deal of power, once again dipped into the Force and caused Snape's living husk to slam both into Dumbledore and force both men into the cell itself. "There. Now you can look into your favourite pets blank eyes until he dies and, after that, when his body begins to fail and starts to bloat and stink… when that smell reaches your nose, when you want to retch, remember that you are here because of me. Remember the cost of trying to manipulate me and hurt my friends. When he is finally dead I hope you look into the dark sockets of his skull and know that everything you wanted and dreamed is not just gone but completely obliterated".

He paused and, though it was petty, he couldn't help but twist the knife as he added "Oh...do try not to eat him. He was your friend after all".

With those words and a final scream of inarticulate rage from Dumbledore Harry activated the runic clusters on the prison. The runes caused a wall to instantly almost organically grow enclosing the old man and it instantly disappeared from local time and space.

For the rest of eternity Dumbledore would be under the glow of silver runes and stare at only grey featureless walls or a slowly decomposing body, and later a skeleton, that used to be one Severus Snape.

Harry left him to his well deserved fate without a backwards glance.

The next morning several things happened.

At Bluestone the Longbottom family consisting of Augusta, Neville and his comatose parents, were being greeted by an apologetic Luna as Harry was off on his final set of errands. It was understandable that they were surprised by this as it was very early in the morning that they had arrived and dawn was still some way off.

Augusta was tearfully hugging her grandson and telling him that she loved him and was proud of him as she would be staying behind. She had agreed, albeit reluctantly, to be the groups eyes and ears on Earth (interspersed with regular visits to Spero) and so she was only here to see them off.

Under such praise Neville, for his part, looked as though he might faint.

Thankfully for the absent Harry, when they had finally sat down and had their overdue lunch and conversation with him, everything had gone well between them. Knowing that there was a possible treatment for Neville's parents they had easily, even eagerly, agreed to his request that she stay behind even if at the moment that only meant seeing a small flow of shuttles fill with people and head for the Silver Commonwealth.

It was really thanks to them, and to a lesser extent the Flamels, that any of the old families of Wizarding Britain were on any of the shuttles at all. The fact that those that did go from that select group were almost all tertiary heirs to their families (at absolute best) also helped their choice to do so.

Meanwhile, far away and in many undisclosed locations across the country, many of the squibs and muggleborns that had tried to rejoin the muggle world (and their immediate families) that had either joined the muggle Armed Forces or, the case of the wizards that hadn't, after swearing a vow of secrecy and around a year of specialized training were preparing for a midday operation that would change the Wizarding World forever.

The Crown had been aware of the problems, or at least rumors of them, in the Wizarding World's 'modern era' for at least two centuries but it had taken Harry to fully realise a viable plan of action. The few witches and wizards that had 'crossed' over to their side were either uneducated, had no useful knowledge of the players involved or had no idea of the societies weak points.

Harry did.

There was one other major factor that could make this radical work and, put simply, it was a fact that the pureblood elite had buried centuries before and no one had bothered to remind their heirs in generations.

The Wizarding World was not and never had been a Constitutional Monarchy in any sense. In fact, legally speaking, they didn't even have a definition for the concept and therefore it was ultimately the Muggle Queen that they owed their allegiance to. Their personal oaths had lapsed centuries ago however during Cromwell's Republic and given his protestant leanings they had hidden.

The wizards, in a rare show of cunning and sense, had then effectively stalled (legally and otherwise) when it came to renewing their personal oaths ever since. That was fairly easy for them to do given the versatility of wards and magic in general.

Eventually the Royal Family had largely dropped the matter but had never forgotten what they were owed and, during Voldemort's first rise, had begun to develop plans to deal with their seditious fiefdom. However as stated they lacked key information to make any plan truly viable before now.

Each group of soldiers knew what they were facing and were fully equipped to deal with the threat. The loyalist wizards, for example, were not only armed with their wands but also twenty round capacity P226 pistols and tactical knives. They had been, of course, extensively trained in their use as it was thought that wizards being less adaptable generally would be unable to deal with multiple forms of attacks.

And that didn't even include the non magicals in the forces who were armed with heavier weaponry.

The units were, at this predawn hour, running final checks and preparing for the inevitable resistance as they entered (and resumed their rightful control of) every single major wizarding stronghold on the British Isles with only one notable exception.

An hour earlier than the Longbottoms arrival and the Armed Forces preparations for the return of the Crowns land and people Harry was completing his last ritual. This time, as he couldn't use his own lest he upset the balance of natural magic imprisoning Dumbledore, he had borrowed the less advanced one that the Nation had in the bowels of their French Branch.

Technically this was against several I.C.W. laws and a violation of more than a few treaties between the Nation and the European Ministries. Neither the Nation nor Harry were ever going to tell them what he was doing however.

He had used the rest of Voldemort's arm, some snake venom, a picture of a lightning bolt that resembled his former scar and some of Snape's blood that he had found on the floor of his ritual room near where he had impacted the wall after his being hit.

After checking his gear and spending some time in a light meditation he was ready to proceed.

At roughly the same time that the Longbottom's knocked on his door Harry found himself outside Riddle Manor ready to proceed with his plan.

He couldn't bring anyone with him as the weakness that his last ritual was designed to exploit was a deeply personal one. He had at one point been inside Niagni as well as had a deep connection to Voldemort through his former scar. Those very personal events had allowed him to poke a small hole into the Fidelius Charm with the ritual he had used as they now believed that he was part of Voldemort (at least for the next few hours anyway).

He had lied to Dumbledore, sort of anyway, as though it had taken that long for the room to charge the actual technical details for Dumbledore's ritual had taken less than a year. The planning for this one, being utterly unique to him, had taken both Him and the Nation a lot longer than that to finish.

Harry then used every trick that he had ever learned to keep himself hidden as he entered Voldemort's home. He even went so far as to attach a suppressor to his blaster that was in his off hand and masked his scent on top of disillusioning himself and wearing his families cloak for good measure.

He had an open and currently silent comm line to Gringotts and the Vault of Horcruxes attached to his ear. It wouldn't be as fully interactive as the one on his bracer as it was only sound but it did have audio which was enough.

It was silent because the goblins on the other end, knowing what he was doing, knew better than to interrupt a warrior hunting his enemy. Each horcrux however had an eager goblin standing over it with a charmed stone vial of basilisk venom ready to pour.

It still took Harry a long time to enter the grounds and even longer to enter the Manor proper. He could feel the seconds ticking by in his head as no one was clear on what would happen to him if he was still inside the Fidelius Charm when his rituals power faded. In their defence no one had ever used this particular ritual before, nor would they again, so an amount of uncertainty was to be expected.

Despite himself he was impressed with Voldemort's level of paranoia as he obviously didn't trust his entire security to the charm as Harry's parents had done he found himself passing many Death Eaters as he worked his way through Voldemort's house, like a ghost, to find either the Dark Lord or Niagni.

That might have to do with the fact that Voldemort couldn't ward the inside of the house effectively as well. The house was not willed to him by his father, he was an legitimized bastard after all, and that meant that he could not gain it through the normal inheritance process either.

This of course meant that any wards Harry faced were (to his extensive experience) rudimentary and easy to bypass. Clearly they were that way for Voldemort as well or Harry probably wouldn't be almost stumbling over Death Eaters on almost every corner.

His palms were sweaty and his breathing was shallow even as he systematically hunted his prey. Each time that he found a patrolling group of Death Eaters, with never less than three in each group at the very least, he tensed involuntarily until they had either passed him or he was able to slowly work around them.

Eventually, having not found Nagani, he had to conclude that she slept in the same room as her master. At length he came to a dark and expensive looking oak door that clearly did not match the original architecture.

Trust Voldemort, thought Harry, to pick the most gaudy and ugly looking door to his room. A door that was supposed to insinuate how important he was to everyone but really screamed hey everybody I'm a stupid twat who will always waste my money on shiny things.

Harry had to admit that, besides all of the priceless gems that were studded into it and the overabundance of gold leaf, there was one thing that he liked about the door. The had been designed in such a way that the grain of the wood formed a picture of a falling waterfall if you were to look at it head on.

Sadly that artwork was ruined by the over the top additions and was somewhat analogous to Voldemort himself. Tom Riddle was disadvantaged by his birth yes but he was also a brilliant genius. He could have been a leader that ruled by example and become a shining beacon of hope in the crumbling society but he had instead chosen the quicker path and become something less than he could have been.

There were two Death Eaters guarding the door. From his years of observing soldiers Harry could tell that these two were both tired and lax in their duties. They were unconcerned with their surroundings and even laughed and joked with each other while only rarely looking at their surroundings. They were clearly not only negligent but bored of their duty.

Harry fired a blaster bolt into the dead center of the forehead of one with a soft whine from his weapon. The Death Eaters mask, which proved very effective in cowering full grown wizards and defenceless muggles, was no match for the superior technology of the blaster and melted around the impact wound.

The remaining Death Eater, before he could react, was caught in a Force choke. Instead of trying to reach for his wand the terrorist foolishly tried to grasp at the phantom hand squeezing the life out of him. Soon enough and very softly (though the sound was unnaturally loud to Harry's senses, the man's neck snapped and his body was then gently lowered to the floor to rest with his partner.

Harry slowly eased open the door and thankfully it made not a whisper as he did so.

Inside was an opulent bedroom, as tasteful as the door and covered in things like pure silk bed sheets, and on a massive comfortable looking bed the Dark Lord Voldemort lay sleeping. His familiar was also asleep in the room on a makeshift nest at the foot of the bed.

It is often said that people look peaceful in their sleep and for most it might have been true but this was not the case with Lord Voldemort. Even at rest he exuded an almost physical aura of malice and hatred as if his dreams were nightmares that should break the sanest of men.

Harry began to slowly approach the bed with silenced steps and he did not not cast any magic just in case Voldemort could sense the subtle thread of magic in his bedroom and awaken too early.

"Now" he said softly even as, at the same moment, he fired his almost silent blaster causing the head of Niagni to explode in a splatter of flesh and blood.

Far away at Harry's command each goblin dropped the vicious poison from the vials on the infected items. The black venom did its work quickly and with a large amount of hissing and spluttering (not to mention great screams from their cargo). The souls went kicking and screaming to their next great adventure.

Voldemort's eyes snapped open, still dazed from sleep, even as he struggled to awaken fully even as the adrenaline surged throughout his body and with the screams of his horcrux in the room only beginning to ring in his ears.

Perhaps he expected to be assaulted by a team of Hit Wizards from the I.C.W. or maybe even an attack from Albus Dumbledore himself. He might also have expected a great titanic battle to be fought between himself and Harry Potter where, of course, he would win and there after many other battles and conquests Voldemort would eventually realise his ambition to become the undisputed ruler of all.

If he had faced a normal Jedi that outcome was as likely as not. The Order prided itself on it's desire to save everyone, even its enemies, and rarely killed their enemies if they could help it and tended to try and talk their way through if they could.

Harry, as much as he tried to forget it, was first trained by the Sith and not the Jedi however and despite his desire not to be like them some of that training remained.

Once gained the Sith never gave up the advantage. Notions of fair play and honour were not just derided by them but completely alien after the harsh training that they went through. They of course didn't act that way outwardly very often but, like a consummate actor, it was merely a role they played hiding the predator beneath.

Though Harry didn't agree with the sentiment enough training remained that he would always, whenever possible, use the most effective, ruthless, and expedient method to achieve his goals as long as it didn't conflict with his personal morals.

With the telltale snap hiss of his lightsaber the threat of Voldemort was ended before the man could even begin to react. Though Harry was sure that the late Tom Riddle could have recovered from most wounds even the greatest rituals didn't allow you to recover from your head being separated from your shoulders.

Before any of the now alarmed and confused Death Eaters (from a combination of the horcruxes wail and the burning sensation of their Dark Mark disappearing) could open or break down the door to their master's chambers Harry had taken the head of Voldemort and hurriedly left even before he could have heard the first Death Eaters enter.

When they did they would only be horrified at seeing the remains of their master.

Breakfast at the Burrow was a wonderful time for Molly Weasley as, especially with her children home from school, it was her favourite time of day.

Fred and George were upstairs making explosive compounds and the sound of their shaking the floor was so much a part of her life that it was almost a beat to the music of her cooking though she had no idea what mad scheme they were currently dreaming up. Her two youngest, her secret favourites, were currently de-gnoming the garden and counted herself lucky to have such obedient children.

Soon, she thought, my family will rise to the very top of society. As soon as Dumbledore took care of Voldemort and the minor issue of Harry Potter the Weasley name will be respected and feared more than it has ever been.

The Ministry, for once, was managing to keep a lid on Dumbledore's kidnapping by Severus Snape and the Order of the Phoenix had not informed the Weasley's both for the fact that all the members of the weasley family were non combatants (and had no useful skills to find Dumbledore) as well as their own desire to avoid a panic.

That was also the Ministry's official reason for not telling the populous as they weren't equipped to deal with the fallout that would ensue from peoples hysteria.

Many knew about it anyway of course but, not being completely stupid were not disseminating the knowledge beyond a few like minded individuals that they trusted.

The rich purebloods and the Neutrals were taking this time to shore up and fully stock bolt holes that were overseas and far away from the conflict and panic that was around the corner.

It also allowed those few that Harry, the Flamels and the Longbottoms trusted to prepare a short trip to France or to a short (and secret) audience with the Queen.

The so called Light were in shock, by and large, and wondering what to do as well as being divided between rallying behind Harry Potter or Dumbledore's successor. Admittedly the fact that no one, as far as they knew, had seen or heard from Harry Potter made their decision easier.

The Dark were much more confused than anyone else having a few more pieces of the puzzle. They hadn't taken Dumbledore, nor did they know of anyone who did, and with the very recent (and shocking) secret death of Lord Voldemort by unknown assassins. In short they were huddled in dark corners feeling a deep fear while jumping at shadows.

All of this was unknown to Molly as at the moment and though the Order planned on telling and protecting the family later that day they hadn't done so yet.

That meant that, instead of panicking, she was humming happily preparing for the day and not sending her children as well as her sleeping husband to Grimmauld Place or Hogwarts and it's ancient and powerful wards.

She was happy in her blissful ignorance right up until the moment she felt her body freeze from a simple silent first year spell as well as her tongue glue to the roof of her mouth. Out of the corner of her eye she saw a young hand take the spoon that she, just a moment before, had been using to stir the morning porridge.

She then felt herself float gently and slowly drift to a chair next to her own dining room table. Only then, after a moment, did she manage to focus on the very angry face of one Harry James Potter.

She knew right then, in her heart of hearts she knew, that he was aware of what her family had been planning. The look that he gave her was reminiscent of the look that a rattlesnake gave a mouse before it pounced. There was no mercy there, no pity or caring in those orbs, as they judged her and found her wanting.

She dearly prayed for freedom from those eyes and their judgement but, if she could not at least get that, she hoped that her family might be spared.

Molly Weasley was in many ways a vile and despicable creature. She was twisted, greedy, immoral and cruel. Vain and demanding were very good objectives of her character but she was still a product of her upbringing and to her the Weasley family's status and reputation was everything. This was why she had agreed to Dumbledore's plan in the first place as she would stop at nothing to secure her family's future.

The fact that it would cost Harry his life meant nothing to her as her sole focus was on raising her impoverished family to the greatest heights that she could manage.

And it has all come undone, she thought, he knew. I have no idea how but he knew somehow he knew!

"Molly" Harry said quietly approaching her chair until he was right next to her and his face was less than three inches from hers. "Did you really think that I would never find out? You may be wondering what horrors I am going to inflict on you. You are here defenceless and, for the present moment, alone I could do so many things to you after all".

Harry paused his slow and measured speech to slowly torture her with his silence and the images that were running, by now, through her head. "I could rip out your soul, bind it to a rock and then drop it at the bottom of an ocean. I could slowly electrocute you so that you feel your very blood boil and muscles spasm so hard that your spine snaps and your eyes burst. I certainly hate you enough".

Molly may have been frozen but in that moment she proved that her bladder was not and harry wrinkled his nose at the repugnant smell as it released its contents.

"If I was feeling whimsical I could even turn you into a toad but I will do none of that. I know you, better than you know yourself, after all we are almost like family aren't we Molly _dear_? All I'm going to do is tell you what I am going to do with your two youngest. I know you love them and care about your family deeply and I wanted you to know what will happen to them. After all what kind of brother would I be if I didn't take care of them?"

With that Harry leaned down and whispered for a few long moments in her ear. As he did so her face became pale and her eyes turned wild as she struggled unsuccessfully to break the spell that she was under. She was trying and failing, of course, to warn her family if she couldn't stop him outright.

Harry watched amused for a moment at her struggles and then stood.

He deliberately smoothed down his clothes and composed himself for what he was going to do next even as Molly watched impotently from her chair. He smiled a hard and cold smile at her.

Then he moved quickly to her cupboard then he took down two of her cups and, with a flick of his fingers created a simple note with a fair imitation of Molly's handwriting. He took two vials from the pocket of his robes and poured one into each cup (half a vial in each creating a full measure) while internally thanking Nicholas Flamel for his final gift.

The first liquid was the beginning of his revenge and the second liquid was both the end of it and testament to the fact that, deep down, Nicholas Flamel was not only a meticulous researcher and inventor but was in his own way a very moral man.

The first vial was widely available and borderline illegal as it was often used by pureblood families to help keep their lines going. The main reason that it wasn't illegal, other than the political aspects, was that it did not last long and unlike some others it was easy to tell when someone was under its influence.

The second vial was the one that the Flamels had created. They knew that they had made an error of judgement in deciding to simply outlive Dumbledore as, not only was the man reprehensible in his own right, but he was responsible in part (indirectly or otherwise) for allowing both Grindelwald and Voldemort the free rein they needed to act.

People often forgot that the ancient married couple spent more time researching than they did anything else. A side effect of their elixir meant that they couldn't have children and so, even after they had discovered the Stone, they kept researching new mysteries and innovations to leave some sort of lasting mark on the world.

This little liquid had the ability to turn some potions and potion like substances (though not the Elixir itself) permanent and it could have had numerous beneficial uses especially in emergency medical care. They had not published it however as the risk of abuse was far too high as it could be paired with numerous illegal potions (bought most likely from the same smugglers that had supplied Harry with his) to disastrous results.

"You know Molly there is something that you should have remembered and I sincerely hope that it is your last thought on the Earth. Never fuck with a Potter….Goodbye Molly".

With a small application of the Force and a wave of his hand Molly's Weasley's neck snapped with a wet crack. Harry would have been both sad and happy to realise, at least on a very deep petty level, that despite Harry's request her thoughts did not center on him or his family.

They centered instead on the fate of her two youngest children.

After all, though it was believed that the purebloods often did such things it was never _ever_ spoken of or made public in any way. Her last thoughts were on the inevitable scandal that would ensue and the fact that, in the unlikely event that any Weasley's survived what was to come, the scandal and the fallout that resulted from it would utterly destroy the family and the family name for generations to come.

Harry then popped away with cups in hand as Molly Weasley, alive or dead, was no longer worth his time.

Ginny had just finished removing her share of the gnomes from the garden and, hot and sweaty even in her summer clothes, headed for the stump at the edge of the garden that doubled as a bench for her family. Given the heat she sat for a second and, as she sat on the bench, she saw two drinks sitting innocently on the edge of the stump. She quickly read the note that came with the drinks and soon called out to her brother.

"Oi!" Ron, having thrown the last of his gnomes over the boundary of the garden, turned to his sister. "Mum left us drinks".

Thanks to the fact that they couldn't use magic over the holidays plus some temporary masking and compulsion charms on the cups neither noticed that what was in them wasn't actually tea.

Ron shrugged, feeling the morning heat beat down on him, knowing that it would only get hotter with the midday sun just over an hour away and sat next to his sister where they both began to drink slowly and began to chat about what they were going to do over the next few days.

Ginny slowly felt something strange steal over her. The thin summer dress that she wore seemed to scratch at her nipples and small breasts very pleasantly. Sweat broke out on her forehead as the feeling moved swiftly down like a hot river and connected with a similar itch that had bloomed between her legs.

She stole a glance at her brothers face, blushing and mortified, while silently cursing the fact that due to the heat she hadn't had the forethought to wear a bra or knickers today.

Ron however didn't notice the look as he had his own problems. He also felt a strange heat steal over him but he assumed that he was sweating because of the sun. The pleasant burning heat spread from his stomach and, at first, he enjoyed it until it began to move further south.

He thought that he had erection issues when he had first hit puberty but it appeared that he was wrong as he was currently harder than he had ever been in his life. Worse for him was the fact that this was all happening as he was sitting next to his sister.

He looked towards his sister only moments after she had first glanced at him. As she noticed his glance and their eyes locked all embarrassment left him and he was utterly and completely lost.

Ginny however resisted. She of course knew the dirty secrets of the purebloods, all of them did really, she knew that some of them would become...inappropriate with other members of their own family. To some families it was considered a taboo, a secret shame, and to others simply a necessity to keep their family lines pure. Regardless none advertised it.

It was never us though, she thought, never the Weasleys. It was never the Light and it was such a scandal that, if they were ever discovered, everything she had worked for would be doomed and her family would become pariahs.

She was shocked by how much the forbidden and dangerous nature of what she was considering thrilled her. If her arousal had not begun to swamp her reason she might have wondered why she was feeling the way she was now but it was and it was all she could do to simply resist these new thoughts.

She watched as her brother bit his lip seemingly trying to hold himself back or maybe even broach the subject that she was thinking about at this very second. As she looked at him she found herself admitting how truly attractive her brother was and, as the light hit him, all other concerns fled from her mind as the thoughts that she was having for her now beautiful brother overwhelmed her.

Without any more thought she was consumed and driven by irrepressible need and they dived at each other at almost the exact same moment.

Ron almost savagely tore her sundress from her with the harsh sound of ripping fabric. He then captured one of her young and perky milky globes in his mouth and her back arched in pleasure trying to force more of it into his hungry mouth.

Ginny's hands were not idle either as she fished out his very hard and aching cock. The need they felt was so strong in both of them that she never even bothered, or had the time, to remove his trousers and she even laughed in joy as he forced her to the ground.

When he sank his shaft into her waiting body they both screamed in agony filled joy. She screamed as her virginity was taken and he did so out of the tightness he felt gripping him like a very warm and wet vice.

The sounds of their animalistic rutting echoed throughout the garden and orchard and the noises that they were making inspired each other to new and previously undreamed of heights. Ginny felt nothing for Harry now as her world had focused solely on what her brother was doing to her and the feelings that it caused to burst through her like a great tidal wave that just kept getting stronger. Ron was, of course, in a similar predicament.

At this point an invisible Harry left. He had no desire to see (as well as feeling nauseated) what would surely happen next.

He knew that, as soon as they had finished what they were doing the need would come upon them again. It would never stop now and if they somehow resisted for any length of time the need to begin again would become so strong that they would desire nothing more than to do so to the exclusion of everything else.

It would be so strong in fact that if anyone tried to stop them then the offender would have to fight for his life and someone would surely die.

Harry thought that this punishment was fitting because not only did it ruin the Weasley's and make Ron think of something other than food for a change but it was also one of the potions that they were considering using on him.

Legally it was meant for those, all too common, pureblood spouses that simply couldn't stand one another or were the wrong sex for their partner and unaltered would only last for one, maybe two, sessions at best. It was never designed to be permanent but Harry, with the Flamel's additive had changed that.

Harry was already gone however as he had one last very important stop to make before everything changed forever. He was off to see his last friend, one that had been kept in the dark for far too long, Hermione Granger.

Although it was a tuesday Harry was glad for the fact that, when he knocked on Hermione's front door, her parents were home as he thought that it could make his explanation easier on his friend to have her parents there. Added to that they, with all the massive changes that were about to happen, deserved to know too.

Hermione's mother answered the door.

"Hello young man" she said briskly and Harry couldn't help but note objectively that Emma Granger was a very attractive woman. "Can I help...wait...I know you don't I? Your Harry yes our daughters friend?" She asked with her tone softening as she realised who she was talking to.

"Yes I am. Do you think that I could come in for a moment? I have something important to discuss with you all".

"Of course dear. Hermione is out at the moment as there were a _few_ books that she just had to buy. I'm sure that you can wait for her though".

"Thank you. Perhaps I could speak to you both first?" he asked even as he walked into there living room and settled on a nice and comfy looking sofa and then greeted Hermione's father who was relaxing in a small armchair.

Then, when they were both sitting down with tea in their hands, he began his story.

To say that they were both shocked by his story would have been like comparing a tsunami to spring rain. They ended up surprisingly accepting of the whole thing, especially for muggles who barely knew him or his legend as the Boy-Who-Lived, and they had the common courtesy to hold questioning him until his tale was finished.

He told the two dentists an abbreviated tale of his misadventures. He began with his going through the Veil and why he felt like he had to do so and the conclusions that he had drawn about certain people that he had made on his long journey home to Earth.

He intimated, though he didn't outright lie, that going through the Veil had extended his life span and, as he had hoped, they inferred that this was the reason why he had lived so long. He ended with his return from the Veil and excluded everything that had happened afterwards including all of his meetings with the Nation and the Queen. Then he finally, his throat now parched, stopped speaking.

He was pleasantly surprised to tell, through the Force, that though he had offered to (and did) show them his lightsaber carefully as proof they hadn't needed it to be convinced.

He made no mention of anything else he may have done (at least not in any detail) and the Grangers, far from being stupid people, knew enough not to ask no matter how much they might want to know. They wouldn't have had time for their answers anyway because, almost as soon as he had finished and downed a pint glass of water, their daughter came home.

"Harry!" Screamed Hermione and, knowing what was coming, he opened his arms wide expecting a hug.

He was beyond shocked then when instead of her gentle arms wrapping around him he felt a very strong slap hit him in the face. "Where the _hell_ have you been? You look so different without your glasses. Are you taller as Well? Hold on don't speak just wait one second while I contact Dumbledore". Her speech patterns were as fast as he had ever seen them with her words tumbling out in a rush so that, even if Harry had wanted to, he couldn't answer anyway.

"Hermione" Harry said with steel in his voice and barely halting her "sit down". She waved away his concerns as she started moving again.

"Just one second Harry I need…"

"Now Hermione" barked Dan Granger in a tone that she hadn't heard use in this house since she was very little and trying to write her very first attempt at a novel on the living room walls.

She sat on an empty seat with an exaggerated thump clearly moody at being addressed in such a manner.

"Was it really necessary to bully me?" she half whined.

"Was it really necessary for you to wave off my reasonable concerns without first finding out what they were?" Harry's clipped tone indicated that he was in no mood to tolerate her sulking and would not hesitate to call her on it if needed.

As she opened her mouth to respond her father interrupted her before she could speak.

"Enough little one" Dan said "you will listen and try to understand what your friend is saying. You will not fly off the handle and spout a load of questions to jump ahead to what you consider the most important information and, when you do speak, you will allow Harry to respond am I clear?"

"It's that important?" she asked. At both her parents, as well as Harry's nod, she agreed though she was clearly not happy with the situation.

So Harry once again went through his story, though this time it was slightly more condensed than what he had told her parents due to time constraints, and then swiftly covered some brand new information, He didn't know how to put this new knowledge delicately so he decided to be blunt.

"The Wizarding World is about to fall. Today".

"Who?" she asked suddenly worried "Voldemort?"

"No. The rightful ruler" was his reply and Hermione's face shifted quickly from scared and confused to angry.

"The rightful rulers of the Wizarding World are the Ministry and the Wizengamot!"

"Not so Hermione" Harry disagree and, seeing that she was about to argue despite her father's instruction to the contrary continued "who owns Britain Hermione?"

"The whole of Britain? No one" she responded firmly with her face cycling back to confused again.

"Has it always been this way?" he asked gently trying to both calm his friend and lead her gently to the truth. He hoped that her intelligence would lead her to one of the truths that he had discovered.

"Well the Crown gave land grants to certain nobles when...you're not saying that the Queen is taking back the Wizarding World are you? She can't! It's against the Constitutional Monarchy".

"Not in Wizarding Britain it's not. It may be in the muggle world, honestly I'm not sure, but the Wizarding World's roots are old and the absolute power of the Monarchy still applies there. They have no term for the _modern_ Monarchy, not legally speaking anyway, it's as foreign to them as a spoon to a duck. They didn't even sign the Magna Carta for Merlin's sake, granted they weren't asked but, they didn't sign. They have since shirked their duty for far too long and the Crown has grown weary of both it and the infighting that has spilled into the muggle world".

" _We_ Harry, you meant to say _we_. if what you are saying is true, and I'm not saying that it is, how can we help the Ministry?"

The fact that Hermione's tone indicated that she was trying to humor Harry over the contents of his story and seemingly disregarding his lightsaber (which he had dutifully also shown her as he had done with her parents earlier) as proof of his claims was not lost on the perceptive man. It hurt him, though he hid it well, and if not for his occlumency barriers some of that would have no doubt shown on his face.

"You are wrong Hermione" he responded weighing his words carefully "I did mean they. For as long as I am on this Earth I am a sworn and loyal servant to our Queen Elizabeth II though I won't be here much longer".

"Are you dying?" she asked quickly before her brain could fully digest the rest of what he had said.

"No I just have other responsibilities" he replied enigmatically.

"Wait.. you're helping them aren't you? Harry! How could you?" she accused.

Her parents by this point merely watched the argument play out understanding that, for both of them, it was necessary and hoping that this clearing of the proverbial air would help both of them.

"How could I not?" was his equally quick response and both of their voices now carried a trace of heat and anger as the conversation became more tense.

"After all the Wizarding World has done for you…" she began and her parents still remained silent perhaps sensing that very personal waters were being tested here.

"What have they done for me exactly? Elevated my parents death and my survival into some kind of macabre fairy tale to soothe ignorant children? They certainly didn't protect me as they left me to be abused by the whims and manipulations of Albus Dumbledore. Let's not forget that they adored me one minute and then fucking _revilied_ me the next when they didn't like what I was telling them".

"Dumbledore would never manipulate you Harry" she responded with absolute conviction. His humourless laugh both shocked her and made her more angry as, to her, it was if he was utterly dismissing her very reasonable point of view.

"Of course he would Hermione he _did_ " was Harry's scornful reply. "He was stealing from me. He is responsible for leaving me with the Dursleys, despite the illegality of it, and is directly responsible for the abuse that I suffered there. I think that he actively encouraged it though I can't actually prove it as he was very careful. He and Snape weakened my mind and bound my magic to a mere fraction of it's true power. Manipulate me? Please! Hermione he would have me _die_ on the altar of his so called Greater Good".

"He wouldn't do that. He is the Leader of the Light". Her face hardened "I don't know what's been done to you or who has been telling you these lies or where you came up with this _ridiculous_ story. I don't even know where you got your interesting toy but this has to stop". Harry's face closed down into an expressionless mask even as her parent's became thunderous having watched what it had cost Harry, twice no less, to tell his story.

Then she continued " You have to stop Voldemort and save the Wizarding World and I will do almost anything to help you but Harry...please… you are the Boy-Who-Lived and something terrible has happened to twist your thinking. I believe that you believe what you are saying but we need to get you to Saint Mungo's".

Though Harry had managed to sit silently throughout her speech that did not mean that he wasn't reacting behind the mask that his face had become. His voice, when he spoke, was not loud or harsh but was instead cold. The thread of anger that infused it was clear and, though she thought that he would never hurt her, she suddenly realised that her friend could be very dangerous if he chose to be.

Some level of restraint that he used to have was now missing or gone and though that didn't scare her it did make her wary.

"That is the position that you are taking then" Harry said. Hermione had never seen her friends eyes so cold or her parents, though silent, so angry.

"Now Harry" she said placatingly "don't be like that I'm sure that you're just mistaken if…". Whatever else she was going to say was stopped by a great magical wave that hit the house and the two magicals stiffened as they felt it roll over them. The few wards on the house then fell as if they had never been. "What was that?".

"That was the Queen's representatives acting. Whether you believe it or not she owns all of Wizarding Britain and she has withdrawn all permission for any unauthorised wizards to have wards on her lands. Even now her emissary will be in the Wizengamot, holding Voldemort's severed head, and demanding their fealty".

"Be she can't do that _Hogwarts a History_ …"

"Lies. They can and are exercising their legal rights". Ignoring Hermione's incredulous look Harry turned to her parents "Things are about to get bad for those clinging to the old order of things. I don't know how safe muggleborn families will be when if have half or fully trained magicals in their family. If you can convince your daughter or simply don't want to get caught in the crossfire find my people here".

He handed them a small folded piece of paper with directions, not to Bluestone as Hermione might tell someone else about it but, to the Paris branch of Gringotts. "If you can't I wish you the best of luck and I'd suggest heading to Hogwarts quickly as it will be the only warded structure left. No wizard will be allowed in the demesne of the Queen without giving their fealty".

"Even you? And why Hogwarts?" asked Dan Granger intrigued. It seemed that Hermione's love of books and history came from her father.

"My fealty is conditional and, believe me, it took a long time to work it out. Within reason, for as long as I'm on this planet, I am hers to command _and_ in return I'm responsible for those that are not on this Earth. As for Hogwarts... blame an enterprising Headmaster for that. Dumbledore wasn't the first Headmaster with grandiose ambitions. During the time of Cromwell's Commonwealth he took advantage of the lack of royalty on the throne to quietly declare magical independance for Hogwarts. What his plans were after that I have no idea but, with the return of Charles II, they ended before they began. It was not a good time to piss of the Crown and he was bitter and vengeful about the execution of his father and wary for any sign of treachery."

With all the information that she had heard Hermione was shell shocked and silent and with a last sorrowful look Harry left quietly. Looking at her parents faces Hermione knew that she was in trouble given her recent attitude towards Harry.

With the falling of the wards everything that he had been saying had been proven true in her mind and she felt the tears slowly fall down her face.

She honestly didn't know what was stronger though her loyalty to the world she had entered and all of the figures that had taught her, trained her and made her what she was or her loyalty to her friend. Harry was her first friend but they, people like Mcgonagall, Hagrid, Lupin, Dumbledore and Flitwick, had shown her the joys of a hidden world of wonder and both they and it were under threat now.

Whatever her choice she knew that she was in for a long and cold night.

Countrywide the wizarding strongholds, starting with the Ministry and branching out from there, were being quietly and efficiently taken as their wards (which had protected them for so long) failed so spectacularly.

Their enemy was well prepared and waiting while they were caught flat footed. Aided and abetted by loyal wizards as well as some French goblins the Royalist Army was even able to mask this assault from the greater muggle public.

Only Hogwarts remained of the old order and although it wouldn't fall easily that, for now, was not what the Royalists had planned. Added to that, less than a minute after the Ministry had fallen Hogwarts had reactivated every single ward that they had and it was now truly a castle that was set to a war footing.

Using the remains of Hadrian's Wall, both physically as well as a focus of intent, as well as many complex rune stones (over one hundred and eighty) in the sea around Scotland one of the largest wards in history would settle over a small portion of England and the entirety of Scotland.

Any wizard that tried to cross the barrier it created in any way would be stunned by it and transported to hidden army units that guarded the boundary.

All new witches and wizards of school age would have the opportunity to study either at the new Royal School that was soon to be constructed on the grounds of the old Ministry building or, if their families agreed to go with them, at the Institute on Spero.

The Queen had not taken to this idea very well nor the idea that he would not allow her to use his advance technology but, as it was discovered off world, by the wording of his oath she could not compel him. He had even gone to great lengths to keep any traces of it from her or her agents just to be certain.

Needless to say any Force Sensitive that may be found on Earth, if any ever were, would also be given the choice to go to Spero to learn about their gifts.

Still, Harry thought, that organisational nightmare is Augusta's problem now. For me the Galaxy awaits.

At long last Harry felt a great weight lifted from him. Earth hadn't been his true home in quite some time (depending on changing calendars and how you actually measured his lifespan the numbers of years differed) and he was finally going back to his.

As he entered his ship along with a few others that would go with him he was glad that Luna and her father had decided to go with him and, through the Force, he could feel her comforting presence even now as she slept in her cabin.

As he was packing away his few meager personal belongings (he never had many as the Jedi had reinforced the minimalist attitude that had first been 'nurtured' by the Dursleys) his white egg, that was never far from his sight if he could help it, cracked suddenly and a small baby phoenix came swiftly out of the egg.

It was beautiful as all phoenixes were and already had a full tiny plumage of white feathers tinged haphazardly through with red. Distanly Harry felt a bond similar to the one that he had with Hedwig, but distinctly unique, begin to form between the two and, even if he was inclined, he was too shocked to stop it happening.

"Fawkes?" Harry said with awe "Hedwig?"

Neither" said an amused musical female voice in his head softly " I am made from both but I am not either of my 'parents'. I am Chime and I am very happy to meet you. We will be going off to see the Galaxy together yes?"

"Yes" Harry choked while being overcome with emotion at this new development.

Snapping out of it he picked up his new passenger and headed towards the ships galley and asked his new friend "Is there anything that I can get for you?"

"Well as you are heading that way" Chime's voice in his head was amused "you could get me something to eat...and then I will take a nap I think. Being born is quite tiring"

"I can imagine. Wait...what do you even eat?"

Chimes musical and uplifting thrill filled the ship even as, in his head, harry heard her laughter for the first time as they moved off.

Home, he thought, here we come.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25: Shocks, Helping Out and the Commonwealth

110 BBY - 105 BBY

3542 - 3537 ATC

Spero/Kammia/Yinchorr

Harry didn't know why but, when he first came home, he had half suspected that his city and planet would have been changed beyond all recognition. He was wrong, happily so, and found that Droid Hermione had done a fantastic job of keeping the population balanced with the needs of the planet. This was helped by her decision to terraform nearby planets and systems for their use.

When he returned he had quickly realised that, no matter the frustration that it sometimes caused him, allowing her to develop fully without a mindwipe (risky decision that it was) was incredibly useful. If she had been given regular ones, as the Republic often did with their droids she never would have learned enough, developed enough, to remain effective and essentially planting the seeds and then running the newly christened Commonwealth in his absence.

The Commonwealth itself was growing at a steady pace. Already the twin facts of their efforts to provide medical aid to the Outer Rim right under the Republic's nose, not to mention their relative technological advancement compared to most of those frontier worlds, and the increasing pressures by 'business' entities such as the Trade Federation and the Hutt Cartel it was projected that (at the absolute minimum) their would be around eighty systems in the Commonwealth soon enough.

That translated to, at full capacity, over one hundred and twenty worlds that would eventually fall under its banner.

More good news was that the Longbottoms condition seemed to be the result of some light (but very specific) brain damage. While on Earth, magic or not, that was a very large problem but Nicolas Flamel and Harry were almost certain that within a few weeks to a month both of them could be in cloned bodies. With legilimency and a little luck they would be able to fully rehabilitate and lead normal lives soon after.

The bad news that Harry received was both personal and Commonwealth wide. The latter news was two fold. The first, and least alarming, were some aggressive former trade partners known as the Yinchorri.

They were, as of yet, an unaffiliated world that firmly believed in the old adage that Might is Right. They also believed, however wrongly, that it should be their might and their people leading a war that they wanted among the stars.

Then there was also the greater threat of the continuing pirate attacks, almost in great unending waves it seemed, that to Harry's attuned senses were tainted with the Dark side of the Force. It didn't particularly surpise Harry that something like this had happened though as the Sith must have been aware, at least partially, of the Commonwealth's existence and aside from any personal issues that they might have with the Potter line they would never stop trying to get the resources of the Commonwealth under their control in one way or another.

What neither enemy had taken into account was why he had needed such a large and magically expanded Hangar.

Though the earliest models of his ships were both completely droid manned and almost carbon copies of both the old _Interdictor_ and _Hammerhead_ cruiser classes, though with runic modifications, they had largely been relegated to patrolling the Commonwealth's space and planetary defence forces.

The Geo Forge, assisted by what was now a veritable army of droid workers, was now creating a new class of ship, one that had been partially stolen from the Jedi R&D archives and also bought through less than legal means.

The new class of ship were the state of the art mark twelve _Centurion_ Battlecruisers. They boasted increased firepower, ship carrying capacity and a much larger crew complement as standard. Nic was also hard at work repurposing every scrap of runic knowledge that he had or could research to further improve their capabilities and this was only assisted by sheathing them in N.A.S.

Not only was New Atlantis Steel magically charged, allowing them to take more runes and be powered for longer without the need for a contingent of Magi on board, but it was also lighter than the standard armour and gave a durability that rivaled Phrik or Cortosis far outstripping the plating on any other ships in the Galaxy.

In fact the only plans that were not based off of some ancient or stolen technology were the new fighters that came with the ships. They were diamond shaped with two powerful lasers housed near their front tip and were further split into two types beyond their basic design.

Said basic model was for mundane pilots or droids and called the Mark I or Blackbirds. It was pure black and, like all the models, was armed with thirty missiles or bombs. It was hoped that soon Nic would add suitable shrinking charms so that each fighter could be both interceptor and bomber but, although he was very close, he hadn't managed it quite yet on the standard design.

Nor had he managed it on the Mark II's and they were similar in looks to their predecessor except that they had a white stripe down the middle and were designed solely for Force Users. They were often referred to as Whitebirds because of their paint job. Every system they had had been augmented so that a Force User could fly the ship well beyond normal safety limits to such an extent that it was dangerous, even deadly, for anyone else to try and fly them.

The Mark III's were designed for the Magi and they too had a large strip down the middle though this time it was blue and they were also called Bluebirds. They used runes, currently powered by the pilot, that increased speed, deflector strength and the power of the weapons if they managed to work at all (they hadn't been tested fully). These were the only ships that were mass produced at present that could be both Interceptor and Bomber

None of these designs had been tested in a true battle however and, if it wasn't for the external threats, they wouldn't be for quite some time.

The final set of fighters were unique. Designed specifically with Luna and Harry in mind they had a silver starburst painted on their undersides. These were truly marvels of Nic's (and the Geo Forge's) abilities. The best of the Mark II's and III's went into the _Starburst_ 's creation with all of the enhancements of both as well as somehow (most likely expansion runes) managing to fit a small hyperdrive in them for emergencies.

The more personal problem that Harry had was more than a little embarrassing to him. The Government of the Silver Commonwealth, its Parliament, included one seat for every system it had along with one for both the city of New Atlantis and Fide.

That wasn't a problem for Harry at all as the problem came with what they had decided to do next as they had created a second tier of government. This was a difficult subject for him because though the Council would form both the highest court and a legislative body that would make decisions for the Commonwealth as a whole they wanted him to lead it.

They wanted to make him King. Granted he would be a constitutional Monarch and not an absolute one, but still, they wanted to make him King.

He had refused.

They had then voted again and came back with the same result.

He had refused again and so they eventually stopped asking and simply did it anyway. To appease his foul mood at the news they had elected to make him, with his Godfather's laughter in the background, a prince rather than a king.

The newly dubbed Royal Council was then formed with twelve seats in all. Each member was chosen from a list of names, in their respective fields, to form it and each was titled Lord as a measure of respect.

For example there was a Lord of Colonisation and Expansion, a Lord Public Works and a Lord of Public Health to name just a few. There were also seats for the head of the Armies, Grandmagi and the Grandmaster of the Knights of New Atlantis (which Luna held currently by default).

The only two differences between their seats and Harry's was that he was not chosen by anyone beyond his initial coronation and that, when the Royal Council voted, he had two votes instead of one. He was insistent upon that (rather than the larger share of power they wanted to give him thought he did have a yearly veto) and the people that had done this to him, led by his Godfather, had given him his small victory as they had effectively won the war.

He was now titled, to his chagrin, His Royal Highness The Silver Prince of the Commonwealth Harry Potter. Some had, at his begging, simply started to call him Prince Harry though very few would do more than that like just call him Harry which annoyed him further.

Luna found his discomfort hilarious and the faces that he pulled very cute and her laughter had lasted for months especially when she realised that every time she brought it up he would have a face like a smacked puppy.

The Nation hadn't helped him at all. In fact, in collusion with both Flamel's amongst others, crafted both him and Luna new sets based on his old design. They were both burnished to a silver shine and made from N.A.S. to match his new title.

On the right breast was the chosen symbol of the Commonwealth (a silver star above a flaring lightsaber crossed with a rune encrusted sword) and on both of their left breasts was a white enameled phoenix that looked a lot more like Chime than not.

The major differences between his old armour and this new set included, aside from the new material being much more magically conductive, was the fact that it now included lightweight pieces that partially covered his arms and legs. Thanks to it being much lighter the armour could do this without hampering his agility too much.

His mask was also now blank and spelled not only to be see through but also, with a simple mental command, to melt back and forth between its mask form and a simple silver circlet on his brow.

Given that it was largely goblin made it was not only crafted to the highest standards but was layered with protective enchantments and runes. They had even gone so far as to include a small hidden survival knife in one vambrace. In the other they transferred the workings of his previous vambrace from his old armour with ease.

Like the mask could move itself into the circlet the armour could melt into the vambraces at his wrists. This would leave him in his now standard Tomuon wool and Dantooine cloth Jedi robe and it seemed to Harry that Nic had not only been teaching the Nation a few things but, for their part, they were also truly enjoying being able to use their natural gifts through wands once again.

Luna had further enhanced the gift for Harry (and her own while she was at it) by thoughtfully and carefully imbuing both sets with the Force using an old Holocron that Harry had found when he first went through the Veil.

The final two pieces of news, neither good nor bad, were the changes that magic had made to Spero. It was hardly surprising though as every time that the Geo Forge was used it added more magic to the already enriched world and that had, over the years, impacted everything.

Most of these changes had little to no effect as just because there is magic in something it didn't necessarily mean that things would begin to change especially with the randomness of natural magic.

It did have some small changes on plant life (the transplanted Magi were were excitedly discussing what new potions might eventually be made from them and even debating _if_ these new plants could be used) but the major change was to the longest dwelling wildlife and chief among those was the dragons.

It didn't enable them to talk as they lacked the vocal cords and they were still bound by their anatomy after all but, it did harden their scales and sharpened their claws. They also had their intelligence increased but as they had been living and dying on the world for hundreds of years it shouldn't have been surprising.

Although they couldn't speak in a traditional sense they could now, sort of, communicate in basic images and had essentially adopted the people of Spero as part of their nest.

It had been a gradual process though, for both them and the local populous, and required many negotiations over the years. The wild phoenixes had acted as both willing mediators and sometime translators over the years before this detente could be reached.

It had also required designated 'wild' hunting and breeding areas where it was unsafe and unwise for anyone to venture in them except the phoenixes of course.

Then there was his home. The home that he knew, that he had caused to be built, had been utterly demolished.

The deconstruction wasn't really planned or out of some whim but rather the effect of it being the nexus of the excess magic that was being produced by the Geo Forge far below. A good portion of the land that it had rested on had risen, thanks to the unpredictability of natural magic, a few hundred years ago about three hundred and fifty feet into the sky and stayed there.

It happened so very suddenly that a great deal of structural damage was done and the best that the Magi could do was place magical inhibitors on the land to stop any more unexpected accidents.

Instead of simply repairing the huge amount of structural damage Droid Hermione had instead taken the opportunity to simply remake it from the ground up.

There were now two massive wings coming off the now much larger building. The center of the building was going to be (once they had the numbers) a fully functioning training center for the Knights of New Atlantis or Silver Knights with Chapter houses planned across the Commonwealth.

The right wing was Nic's workroom and center for all espionage performed throughout Harry's new demense. Harry was uncertain what exactly was going on there but decided, for many reasons, that it was better that he did not know.

The left wing held the Royal Council Chambers and other offices to do with that particular branch of government while the tower that sprang from it became his own private quarters (and hid the most dangerous Holocrons) that would hopefully one day echo with the laughter of his children.

The center tower was given over to the storage of all magical knowledge that they did, or ever would, possess as well as the history of both the Commonwealth and all of its inhabitants magical or not and would even grow to include knowledge on the Republic, the history of Wizarding Britain and the early days of Spero itself.

There were sky bridges connecting each of the towers that soared almost like the thin rising wings of a great bird in flight and, when the sun hit it, the white building was bathed in a warm golden light.

Their historian and now Chief Archivist of Histories was another frequent visitor to the newly dubbed Prince's Manor in the form of dentist turned archivist Emma Granger. Both she and her husband Dan had come along with a new ship of refugees, the first since the Royals reasserted their rights, and the ship mostly contained a mix of Merfolk and Veela but also Hermione's parents.

Hermione herself hadn't come with them instead choosing to head to Hogwarts and help the remaining remnants of the former Wizarding Britain whose world she adopted. The fact that she had refused to come had hurt both her parents and Harry deeply. Luna had somehow known of his pain and visited him once he knew that she was not coming.

Flashback Begins

Standing on his balcony and looking out over his shining city in the dark night Harry was consumed by guilt. He could have gone to his friend earlier, years earlier if he had to, and he believed that he could have convinced her of the truth.

"The risk was too great" Luna spoke interrupting his thoughts.

"But I didn't give her enough time" Harry replied the anguish clear in his voice.

"You gave her all the time that you had. You had just over two hours and it wasn't your fault that she wasn't there when you arrived and it's not like you could have moved the timetable at the last minute".

"It wasn't hers either"

"No of course it wasn't and I don't pretend to understand her decision but I do understand yours" she stated.

"I failed her"

"You made a choice and so did she. She chose the Wizarding World and you chose to put the safety of everyone you love, including her, and this whole place above satisfying her feelings or your desire to reconnect sooner than was wise".

"I came for you" he stated. "Straight away I came for you"

"And I know you. If she had been there you would have taken her with us as well. Neville could escape notice only because your enemies, our enemies, underestimated him and he was a pureblood. That was not true for Hermione in either case".

"I still could have told her long ago" Harry said.

"And the risks remained the same" She moved forward and hugged him from behind before continuing "You know what would have happened if Snape or Dumbledore had read her mind. Harry... Dumbledore directly or indirectly killed tens of thousands of his own kind and countless muggles in pursuit of his dream if you take into account his active participation in Grindelwald's rise and his inaction in Voldemort's. Imagine, just for a second, what any of those three would have done with the Geo Forge, let alone what we have all built and continue to build here".

"They would have used Hermione and discarded her without a second thought for all of this and then...Hell...Hell for the Earth, Hell for the Republic and the Sith laughing as they, at best, watched it all".

He sighed, thinking of the young girl that he had met on the train and the friendship that they had made so long ago at a place that had changed both of their lives forever.

"I just wish that I knew why she has chosen the course she has. You are telling me that choices are permanent and sometimes we make the wrong ones and I understand that but... I still feel like I have failed her and still want to know why".

"Then use it" Luna responded sharply. " They say that failure is the greatest teacher. Well I intend to be around and your friend for a very long time so learn from it and be better. We may never know why she chose what she did but, if there is an answer, I will find it".

Harry disengaged from Luna and laughed hollowly thinking that every single time he learned a life lesson like this he lost a friend.

"We have all made our beds haven't we?" Harry said bitterly.

"And we all must lay in them" replied Luna sorrowfully.

"You said that you intend to be around for a long time?" Harry asked hopefully changing the subject.

"Well there is no use me trying to figure out what we have if I die of old age before we manage to figure it out let alone enjoy it".

"We?" he said taking her hand understanding her point. They shared a smile and looked at each other for a very long moment. "Well if we're going to do that allow me to introduce you to the slightly disgusting world of blood bags and cloning…"

He took her by the arm and led her inside. As he did so he tried to put aside the pain he was feeling and concentrate on the future.

Flashback Ends

I always thought, Harry reflected, that once I got home there would be more time for Luna and I but, given my need to set up the Council, Luna's own training and the planning to repel the twin threats of the Yinchorri and the pirates it seemed that they had less time than ever at the moment.

Dan Granger had been instrumental in helping form the plans to fight these new threats. Before he was a dentist he had been a major in the S.A.S. and long before Harry had returned Droid Hermione had instituted a mandatory two year service in the military for all citizens due to the attacks.

Some chose to join special organic only units or craft but most simply went where they were sent. After their mandatory term was up most decided to make use of the many schools, universities, markets and business that the multitude of worlds had to offer.

The biggest draw, in the early days of Harry's return for example, were the massive construction efforts involving several underwater pre-planned cities for the merfolk that were beginning to arrive. These cities were not just going to be on Spero but elsewhere. In fact, when complete, there would be at least one in every planet of the Silver Commonwealth that had anything approaching an ocean.

It was especially attractive since, aside from a nice pay packet (the Commonwealth accepted Republic Credits, Galleons, and both muggle Pounds and the credit chips that were Harry's version of the same currency), they offered free education courses that prepared people nicely for their future in the greater Galaxy that they found themselves in.

There were of course many that chose to join the Police Force or the Army thereby more permanently putting their previous training to further use though the amount that they did that varied greatly not only on cultural lines but racial ones as well.

The Nation, for example, largely evenly split themselves between designing and creating new weapons and technological marvels or joining the Armed Forces. Standard Army and Navy gear was either created, or in some cases reproduced, by the Goblins first so that they could improve on previous gear of its type.

At present the standard gear consisted of a goblin forged curicass (made from phrik laced steel), a standard heavy blaster and a finely made goblin short sword. The Goblin's themselves eschewed using the blasters that they reproduced instead preferring a form of collapsable melee shield that they carried on their backs when not in use that could defect fire so their swords could do their work.

As Harry and Luna walked, arm in arm, through the streets of New Atlantis, enjoying the quiet morning and crisp, but still slightly chill, air and they easily dodged a small group of Hogwarts aged children giggling as they passed.

Thanks to Headmistress Flamel, Sirius, Xeno and a few muggleborn Curse Breakers that had felt the desire to teach the Institute was already up and running. There were still some positions available however and Harry privately hoped that the elder Longbottoms would become professors for Neville's final years if they had any desire to do so.

Looking at the clear blue sky, almost teeming with the magic of Spero, he saw how the few people that were out and about at this early hour enjoyed the city that he had helped to create. He enjoyed how peaceful, almost idyllic, it was here far from the enforced calm of the Jedi Temple or the battlefields that he had known.

The beautiful girl whose arm that he was holding made it almost perfect to him. They were both enjoying the peace that seemed to blanket their home. Though things got in the way Harry felt more connected here, more free and more happy than he had ever been in his life.

"What are you thinking?" Luna asked looking at his happy serene expression and meeting it with both the open and honest face that he loved and her wide blue grey eyes staring deeply into his own. An unspoken resolution seemed to flitter across her face for a moment as if she could tell what he was thinking and decided something for herself.

"I see my future" he responded without thinking and then blushed as, with the fact that they had just dodged children, the double meaning sunk in for both of them. She blushed as hard as he had and then bit her lip.

"I see mine too...someday" then chastely and gently pecked his lips with hers before quickly disengaging her arm from his while he was in a daze. She then laughed and moved off before he could recover his wits as they did have a busy day after all.

Luna was in charge of dealing with the Yinchorri problem and, with Dan Granger along to supervise and help, she had command of over twenty _Hammerhead_ Cruisers with one of only two (that had been made so far) of the _Centurion_ Battlecruisers named the _Hope_ as her flagship.

She was heading with her group for the heart of their space while Harry led another, in his flagship the _Silver Flame_ , to the Pirates Haven.

Kammia

Tracking the pirates by triangulating their most likely position proved to be fairly easy given the amount of times that they had attacked Harry's people and led him and his fleet to the formerly uninhabited world of Kammia.

Before coming to this world the planet was just one of the many that on a list, kept in both the Jedi Archives and the Exploration Corps of the Republic's central Archives, as both a promising and uninhabited world that had great potential as a Agriworld.

The colonisation of planets required both time and money. Combine that with the fact that the Republic was vast with almost 1.3 million worlds scattered within its borders and the fact that the Republic, the great organism that it was, was not in an expansion phase the world had languished for years.

It was only one among many after all, of possibly thousands of worlds, that were waiting for a true scouting and colonisation effort. The only reason Harry remembered the name from the list was that he had occlumency at his disposal.

He was completely unsurprised that it had been forgotten or that the Republic was currently unaware of his Commonwealth because, quite simply, what they lacked in military might, thanks to the Ruusan Reformation they more than made up in sheer size and internal bickering.

It was no longer forgotten it seemed. On the largest landmass was a citadel that was clearly the home based of the priate group that had been harrassing the Silver Commonwealth.

They called themselves the Dark Hand and even had a rudimentary shipyard on the moon of the planet. Around the shipyard were eight Cruisers, several defence systems and two destroyers. Clearly they were getting ready for another raid to test the defences and most likely pillage his domain.

That in and of itself was not particularly disturbing, they were pirates after all, but the emanations of the Dark Side coming from the closest destroyer did worry Harry a lot more than the ships themselves.

Thanks to the rudimentary (and still experimental) expansion charms on the _Hammerheads_ their complement of Diamond Fighters (all Mark I's) was greatly increased. The basic complement of fighters in the originals had only been twelve but now each craft comfortably carried fifty.

They had also removed almost all cargo space and, in Harry's droid fleet at least, each of the older model ships were now housing 1,000 HP-30 infantry doids each. The major difference between them and their predecessors (aside from improved combat algorithms) were improved armor and the fact that the droids legs were designed to be seamlessly stored in their torso allowing for more storage space

Both the _Hope_ and the _Silver Flame_ had the newest cutting edge improvements and although the _Hammerhead_ class was soon to be replaced with similar ships as fast as the Geo Forge, the building droids and the Factory could produce them. All they were waiting for was these 'trial runs' as it were to hopefully fully test their own modifications.

The _Hammerheads_ had never faced this many ships at once as the pirates preferred to stretch the Commonwealth's defensive line thin in hit and run attacks. A full scale conflict like this simply hadn't happened before with the pirate ships usually outnumbering them three to one as the defending forces were out of position guarding (or traveling to guard) as many planets as possible.

Immediately on their arrival back into real space the enemy ships detected them and, moving in formation, began to open fire. The blue glow as the barrage of lasers hit their shields like raindrops was comforting to Harry especially when the droids on his bridge pointed out that they were holding and no damage was being reported.

The pirates then launched their fighters and bombers. Like an angry flock of birds a mass of them flew at high speed towards his line and, at a rough count, there were somewhere between one hundred and one hundred and twenty of them coming.

"Charge point defense lasers and all turrets" commanded Harry watching their approach through his viewport.

"Yes my lord" stated the nearest droid.

Even as he gave the order a screen flashed and Harry could see without being told that the closest destroyer was activating it's thrusters trying to leave the system to flee and, given the fact that the pirates were outnumbered two to one, Harry wasn't really that surprised.

"Have the first six carriers deploy all fighters. Focus all large ship fire on that destroyer. It is not getting away today".

"Yes my Lord" this time the voice came from SE-4 (Ship Executive) the bridge commander when Harry was not onboard.

Even as the fighters began to clash with each other Harry's ships, still under fire, turned their guns upon the destroyer's engine section. The flare of it's shields was visible from even this distance as they immediately began to strain under the continuous fire.

Harry's fleet with their enhanced engines began to close the gap between the two groups even as they continued firing and attempted to surround their foe.

Even as the shield of the enemy dreadnought began to weaken the distance between the two shrunk to such an extent that Harry could almost see into the enemies bay as it spewed more ships and it's point defense shot at his Blackbirds though, for the moment, most of the shots missed.

Even as this was happening the fighter to fighter combat was heating up as each side fought for an advantage. The sheer number of fighters made them look like a beautiful boiling cloud of fury and, if it wasn't for the explosions as they fought each other and scored hits, it would have been entrancing in the same way that a open fireplace was to some as it crackled merrily on a particularly juicy log.

Soon enough though two things were clear. First many of the charms and runes that were placed on his fighters did not work. In fact many were actually detrimental to the ships themselves as they began to fail and take other systems with them.

Even without ordering it Harry knew that there would be a team of droids recording the data for analysis later so that hopefully this problem would be fixed if it was at all possible.

Second Harry could see that despite their faults through sheer weight of numbers, if nothing else, the enemy fighters were losing the battle for dominance of the battleground. It would only be a matter of time before his bombers could be sent out without fear of being intercepted before they reached their targets.

The combined hits on the enemies shield paid off soon enough as before they were able to get into position to activate their hyperdrive the shield failed and the engines collapsed under the bombardment in a ball of fire that was quickly extinguished by the cold vacuum of space.

As soon as this was apparent the other pirate ships began to close ranks and, heedless of the damage that such a maneuver would cause them, moved to protect their injured leader. The tactic worked as their overlapping shields significantly reduced the damage that was getting through to their de facto capital ship.

Then, to Harry's Force Senses, it was almost like a dark and disgusting oil spread invisibly over the entire battlefield infecting everything in it like a revolting and disgusting stain that would not, could not, come off.

Suddenly the tide began to turn against Harry's fleet.

His fighters found themselves out of position and quickly overwhelmed and many of the shots fired from his ships cannons inexplicity began to miss. His Blackbirds even began to collide with each other as they tried to avoid enemy fire. It seemed that every action that his blackbirds took was wrong and that his carriers were simply unable to damage a now invincible enemy.

Battle Meditation, thought Harry, an interesting and rare gift. I've read about it but never seen it...no Jedi has in centuries. I'd have prefered not to experience it either _especially_ not in this situation.

Harry could see, from his vantage looking over the whole battle, that the enemy was focusing all of its ships return fire on the closest _Hammerhead_. Though the runes that enhanced the shield were supposed to extend shield life it was not handling the strain well. Soon enough the entire ship exploded in a ball of fire.

It happened much more quickly that it should however and the most logical conclusion that Harry could draw was that a similar thing was happening to the ship as to what happened to the fighters.

Harry glanced at the incoming data and instead of improving the ships power as they were supposed to, when they overloaded, they damaged or destroyed the very emitters that they were supposed to enhance.

"Launch all remaining fighters and bombers. Have the interceptors cover the bombers as they make their run on the enemy capital ship".

Even as Harry gave his orders he was already beginning to leave the bridge. The four hundred mix of fighters and bombers left seconds after he began moving as per his instructions as well as from all of his other ships. "I'm going to my ship. SE-4 you have the bridge".

"At this rate the losses will be be too severe to maintain any attack for long" SE-4's synthesized voice was somehow carrying a note of warning.

"I know" Harry replied " though no Jedi has dealt with Battle Mediation in centuries I researched it and though I sadly lack the gift I am aware of a way to defend against it...at least partially. Imagine the possibilities of such an ability.".

Harry could already feel the strain on his mind as he fought through the power that was like dark treacle trying to soak his mind and he could only imagine the strain on the Darksider on the other ship.

"I am not programmed to imagine" Harry heard even as the bridge door closed softly behind him as he left.

It was clear that he needed to disrupt the Battle Meditation and very soon before his forces were decimated. Harry needed to even the playing field and the quickest way to do that was to take the fight to his adversary and so he moved swiftly to his Starburst.

As Harry felt the canopy of his fighter close above his head and the systems hum to life he was comforted by the hiss of the cockpit sealing even as, with a loud whoosh of the fighters engines, he was launched into space.

It was a massacre.

Harry almost immediately dodged burned out debris and slowly exploding craft as he flew out. He joined the tail end of the four hundred ships leaving the _Silver Flame_ against the eighty or so remaining enemy craft.

Once the Battle Meditation is disrupted, thought Harry, and the reinforcements from other ships join these Blackbirds my fighters should clean up nicely.

Using the fact that he was able to shield himself, if only partially, from the effects of his enemies Battle Meditation he was able to destroy a few pirate ships as he crossed the void between the _Silver Flame_ and the enemy capital ship.

His success however drew attention, especially given that all other ships were failing to hit more often than not, as it caused six enemy fighters to break off and begin to hunt Harry. Harry obviously was not a fan of this new development as they began to approach in an attack run.

He dove steeply and then sharply spun between two burning husks of diamond fighters that had smashed into each other. His chances rose as his computer registered two impacts on the burning husks behind him.

He then as soon as he was clear, using his enhanced reflexes and pushing his fighter to its limits, spun sharply on the spot and opened fire destroying two more.

The downside of that was that was that he was in prime position for the other remaining two to rain hell down upon him as they hurtled past.

Although he used every trick that he knew it was a struggle to stop himself from being killed instantly and he moved his ship through some very dangerous twists and turns to avoid being destroyed by the direct hits of his enemies.

Still several glancing impacts rocked his ship and a whole host of warning lights blared red from his cockpit in warning and pieces of his ship scattered under the assault.

The blasts fell all around him and he struggled to move out of fire but he eventually was able to move around and then behind one of his enemies.

Getting the low tone of a missile lock from his console Harry smiled grimly even as he fired a pair of missiles at one of the two remaining and blew it from space in a satisfyingly large explosion.

His grin was short lived however as, in the meantime, the last ship had lined up into an almost perfect position and it was only a warning from the Force that allowed him to angle his ship so that the cockpit was not hit.

Unfortunately his left thruster was.

The sudden loss of power on one side had him spinning through space towards the enemy ship. Through his disorientation (as well as his fear of being blown apart any second) Harry managed to reach out with his mind and temporarily steady his _Starburst_.

Thankfully the fire suppression systems were still working and they, along with the vacuum he was in, made short work of the fire on his damaged thruster. It was clear however that nothing could be done to restart it.

With his shields damaged to a dangerous level as well as being rune based it was clear that he was in no condition to fight even if he disregarded the heavy fire that he was still under.

Harry was now firmly of the belief that, with their faulty nature, the only reason the runes still worked even partially in his _Starburst_ was that he was actively forcing his magic to make them work but he couldn't keep that up forever as it was quickly beginning to drain him.

Lacking any other choice as going back to the _Silver Flame_ would mean directly facing his last opponent (as well as failing to stop the Battle Meditation) he headed directly for the enemy ship as quickly as he was able to manage.

He didn't manage to land in the enemy hangar so much as crash in a shower of sparks and flame. Thankfully the hangar was empty as he punched his canopy and Force Leaped out of the burning wreck moments before it exploded and alarms began to blare throughout the three closest levels of the ship to the hangar.

"SE-4" Harry said thankful that his comm worked with both this ship and the _Silver Flame_ being so close to each other. "Can you read me?"

"Yes my Prince?" Harry winced at the title but still continued with his conversation.

"With any luck the battle should soon shift back in our favour. When it does I need you to destroy the remaining fighters as soon as possible and then send a squadron to reinforce me here. The rest should help with the bombing runs on the other ships".

"Understood my Lord".

Quickly moving towards the nearest elevator he focused his senses on the deep ball of darkness that he could sense. From what he could tell the inky blackness was concentrated somewhere near the bridge of the ship most likely, if the Darksider had been there for some time, in a meditation chamber just off of it.

The darkness was so deep to him that, in some ways, it was more real to him than the corridors that he moved along. The corridors were mostly deserted as well which helped him make good time and Harry thought that he might actually get to the bridge unmolested until he heard a shout.

"Jedi!" Screamed a pirate as, although a lot of people were off attacking Harry's fleet, there were still people on board that had responded to the alarms and the closest and fastest had already found him.

This first response group was four men strong and were running full tilt to subdue or kill him.

Harry called his blue lightsaber to his hand (he found as the years went on he used his green one less and less) and ignited it. In his other hand he held his ebony wand already glowing with his desire to remove these obstacles from his path.

Seconds later the four men were dead, three from his saber and one from an explosive hex, and Harry was moving on. Twice more he encountered teams like this and quickly dealt with them before he managed to enter the bridge corridor.

Harry did not know why but the alarms that had blared in the hangar were absent here and had been silent for many floors.

It could have possibly been a trap or it could have been simply that they thought sending twelve people were enough but Harry's luck was not to hold as the first door that opened on the bridge level was a barracks for ground troops and, worse for Harry, there were almost fifty pirates inside.

Not having the time to deal with them fully, as with every second more of his fleet was failing, and as even with his skills fifty well armed and prepared pirates would have taken him a great deal of effort to deal with and it would have likely given him more than one injury in these enclosed spaces no matter what he did.

Quickly, dropping the wand and using the Force, he pushed the nearest men back into the others and, closing the door, he first put his blade through the access panel for the door. Then he lightly scored the edges of the door effectively welding it closed.

That dealt with them for the moment.

Harry then entered the bridge proper and put away his wand trusting in the slightly more limited though more fluid ring in case he needed to use more force powers quickly.

On the bridge the startled faces of twelve officers who, until the door opened, were clearly helping to direct the enemy fleets attack. From their shocked looks on their faces it was clear that they either didn't know he was coming or expected him to be delayed for much longer than he had.

In their defence it wasn't very likely that they had faced a Jedi in combat before and that they dismissed their prowess in combat as simply legends. Even if they had been in close contact with the Darksider they tended to fight explosively rather than strategically, if they chose to fight at all, and generally preferred to use their gifts to cause fear.

The fact that this 'legendary prowess' was likely to be dismissed by them and the fact that they had no true understanding of what he was capable of was something he fully intended to exploit.

From his early training he knew that Banite Sith were trained in both combat and intrigue and though given their Grand Plan they were more likely to work from the shadows it didn't mean that they always did. He also knew, from his time researching history as a Jedi, that the various Sith Empires of old more than once separated their Darksiders into classes to cover all bases.

Though he hoped his current nemesis was a Darksider that was lost to his baser instincts he wasn't taking any chances.

One officer (most likely the commander of the ship given the pomp that he dressed himself in) reached for the alarm nearest him but was unable to reach it due to the fact that Harry's lightsaber flew out neatly bisected him before he had a chance to touch it.

The others in the room had already begun to fire on Harry even before the lightsaber had fully left his hand.

Thankfully Harry was not defenceless without his lightsaber as, at the same time that they were beginning to fire, a shield had erupted from his outstretched ring hand. It flared brightly as it absorbed the bolts that would have otherwise killed him and continued to protect him until the lightsaber flew safely back into his palm.

The very next shot was deflected by his blade, it's course taking it almost completely across one side of the room to the other, where it impacted on another man's face. The hit pirate soundlessly fell to the floor as the heavy blaster bolt had burned his face into a charred and crumpled mess.

Needless to say the fact that most of his face was now missing or in the wrong place made him quite dead.

Harry weaved among them like he was in a choreographed dance of death deflecting fire as he did so. He threw one man with the Force into another so hard that, when they hit the wall behind them, he heard bones snap.

With a twist of his free hand another fell with his neck snapped at an odd angle even as his lightsaber moved to impale another, his face frozen in a rictus of agony, in the belly.

Harry's combat style was ruthless and efficient as he economically dodged an enemies shot while bringing himself closer to his targets. Every step moved him into position for a strike, every swing of his blade either deflected a shot or landed in flesh with a hiss and scream. Every twitch of his hand caused a spell to fly bringing death and agony to his foes and soon enough all of them were dead.

Still his greatest test was yet to come. Outside the death and destruction was rising for his side (though Harry was privately grateful that the organic fighting forces were with Luna rather than him given their heavy casualties to date).

Even so soon, if he did nothing, all his fighters would be destroyed and the assault on his remaining _Hammerhead's_ would increase to the point that all that would be left were heaps of scrap. He couldn't, from a strategic point of view, allow a clearly hostile force to use such a devastating gift against the Commonwealth ever again.

Activating his armour for the first time and feeling it flow over his body like cool water he made a final check of himself. His blue lightsaber was in his hand, his green deactivated on his belt, his ring on his finger and his ebony wand attached to the underside of his wrist.

He was ready.

He moved to a nondescript but somehow still menacing door just to the left of where he entered nd with a casual wave of his hand and the lightest touch of the Force that he could manage he opened the door.

The sight that greeted him was a traditional Sith meditation chamber. Spartan, dark and exuding an aura of menace that a serial killer would envy it was the evil beating heart that controlled the pirates and watched over the entire battlefield like a lord of old.

The transparisteel window that overlooked the battle allowed anyone working in the room to marvel at their victories as the full scope of their plans came together and instantly know if any other the plans that they had made needed to be changed due to enemy interference.

It was also clearly perfect for a user of Battle Meditation.

The kneeling figure that was in the centre of the room wore traditional Sith Robes that hadn't really changed in design for centuries. The cut was more than comparable to Jedi Robes but where the latter seemed to emphasize humility and poverty (unless like Harry you chose to make them out of rich materials) there was an element of danger about these.

It was almost as if, Harry thought, that whoever made these knew that they would feel the blood of thousands, metaphorically or not, stain them.

As Harry looked closer the male, and it was a male, seemed to be an unassuming middle aged Bith. Then the Sith opened his eyes slowly and the lurid yellow light of the Dark Side radiated from their depths screaming the man's contempt better than any words ever could.

The Bith stood, nimble and light on his feet, gracefully rising to stand almost shoulder to shoulder with Harry and carried an unlit lightsaber in his hand (that Harry had little doubt was blood red) as if he was born with it.

"Finally you have decided to accept our invitation Harry Potter" hissed the 's eyebrows rose as, to him, whoever these people were they were lunatics. Only madmen would equate attacking and attempting to kill thousands as an invitation after all.

"That's _Prince_ Harry to you" he replied with sarcasm dripping from his tone and then made a logical leap "Darth…?"

"Venamis. As you can see from the view outside" he continued even as another Carrier belonging to the Commonwealth exploded "I am the master of this battle".

"What?" Harry responded having noticed the hate filled anticipation in Venamis's eyes. "Did you expect me to scream something like 'Not anymore!' and charge you like a foolish Jedi?"

"You _were_ trained by your father...the last Jedi Lord" the Bith responded with venom.

"Perhaps you'd prefer me to act like you and pointlessly monologue about how _gifted_ I am?"

"Tell me" spat Venamis "did you enjoy sleeping for all of those centuries? Did you dream?"

"I have no idea what you mean" responded Harry with ice in his voice.

"Of course you do. Did you think that the Sith Order wouldn't realise that you had replaced yourself with Holodroids? They were well made certainly but we do have spies everywhere. Given your age in relation to what was known about William Potter it was easy for us to deduce that you are his son and though we don't understand why you slept it hardly matters".

"I'm impressed" Harry lied "though you have no spies in New Atlantis".

"Do we not?" Challenged Venamis with amusement in his voice.

"What" said Harry "exactly do you want?"

"Your factories for one, some money and access to any holocrons you have. Nothing too taxing for someone like you". The Bith's demand had the virtue of being blunt and direct at least.

"No" Harry responded in kind.

"Be reasonable. If you don't give me what I want I will just take it" said Venamis sounding as if he was trying to soothe a wild animal.

"I said no".

Without another word Venamis ignited his lightsaber and Harry's eyebrows rose at the fluid stance that the Bith took. It was clear to him, having studied with some of the greatest swordmasters that the Jedi had, that Venamis was at least very gifted if not a true natural with the exotic weapon.

All Harry could do was ignite his own and call his other, often unused, lightsaber to his hand and ignited that one too. There was a tense moment as both men stared at each other neither willing to give ground and both detesting everything about other.

Soundlessly they suddenly and violently launched at each other so quickly that it was impossible to tell who moved first. In the early probing exchanges each admitted to themselves that their opponent was very skilled.

Harry was, at the very least, fluent in a multitude of styles by this point and even had achieved mastery in some and utilised that to fluidly move between forms and heighten his unpredictability.

Venamis, for his part, was clearly a master (or near enough to make no difference) of Form II and that form was designed solely for situations such as these. The tight quarters of the room that they were fighting in only highlighted that fact.

The Sith himself was struggling to deal with his mounting frustration even as he was trying to keep a great deal of his concentration on the all too fragile web that formed his Battle Meditation.

He had expected, in all honesty, to subdue or kill this bastardised Jedi quicky and he was rapidly coming to understand his mistake. He had never been tested so much, not even by his Master, as he had by so far by this _Silver Prince_.

Despite himself Venamis found himself struggling to control his anger rather than mastering it and using it and because of that more and more of this attention was slipping from where it should be to the lightsaber battle itself.

On the plus side for the Bith the amount of frustration and anger that he was feeling fed directly into his hatred for his opponent and that, in turn, enhanced his skill and power.

Ducking under a return swipe that would have taken his head clean off if he hadn't moved Harry managed to land an enhanced kick into the Sith's chest that slammed him violently and very hard into the viewport behind him.

The fight continued with hissing and clashing blades for a long time and, in a brief lull, Harry realised that his dual blade technique was not working as well as he had hoped. He also knew that he had to end this fight quickly or, no matter if he won here or not, he would ultimately lose.

Given the time constraints he put away his other lightsaber and decided to switch tactics the next time he had even half a moment to do so.

He felt the ring respond to his magic so much that his whole hand was almost tingling with the need to release his powers even as his enemy leapt back into the fray and Harry shifted from his last choice of Form VI to his preferred single blade friendly Djem So.

He was seeking to power through his enemies guard of classic (and superb) Makashi through sheer brute force as finesse didn't seem to be getting him very far. It also allowed him more adaptability in terms of using his powers or magic.

Soon enough they both found themselves in a saber lock as Venamis made a slight error that he was able to capitalise on. Venamis opened his mouth obviously thinking that this would be a good time to taunt Harry and weaken his resolve but Harry had other ideas.

Using the Force enhanced strength that Form V was famous for he managed to maintain the saber lock one handed and, though he could not maintain that for long, a second was all that he needed.

A cutting curse launched from his open hand that travelled deeply into the side of the Bith's head. Though he had intended to hit the center of Venamis's head, thanks to his own connection to the Force, Venamis had moved enough to limit its effectiveness.

It did however shatter the fragile connection between Venamis and the Battle Meditation and both men felt it shatter like glass dropping from a great height.

The shock of the unexpected attack and the backlash of that power failing was almost enough to end Venamis as Harry's saber came within a few millimeters of ending his existence.

"You think that you have won?!" Venamis screamed. The aura of darkness around them both pulsed and then drew closer to the clearly enraged man as he began to summon Sith Lightning. "Here is what the Sith think of your victory!"

A stream of lightning almost a foot thick flew towards Harry as Venamis gave all of himself to utterly destroying this annoying irritant.

Instead of trying to stop or deflect such raw power with his blade he instead dropped it, knowing that from its size alone that the weapon was unlikely to deflect it all, and instead buried himself in the deepest part of the quiet and universal domain of the Force that he could manage.

This was not, the first time that he fought an angry Sith after all.

For the first few seconds, when the lightning struck his palm, Harry felt like he wasn't himself. Not that he was in pain but simply because he was that deeply engrossed in the ebb and flow of the universe and that made anything else, even this, seem so small and inconsequential.

Honestly, Harry thought, what use were names, emotions, dates, or even time when confronted with even the barest hint of the majesty of all creation?

The circuit of lightning completed in Harry's palm with a loud crackle of hatred but he did not let it end there. He used himself as a circuit and channeled it across his body, while adding a portion of his own power to the mix, and out of his other hand in a display that was over three times as strong and far outstripped the one that hit him.

From being so deeply in the Force Harry was desensitised to the world around him, almost as if the physical world around him was paper thin, and he then watched in a detached and clinical fashion as the lightning struck his enemy hungrily.

After watching the power force his enemy to the floor and hearing his screams Harry eventually let the flow stop. He didn't know how long it took for him to do so as time was still quite an alien concept for him at the moment but Venamis was alive.

If barely.

"I need to find out what you know" stated Harry as clinical as if he were discussing the neutering of a dog only to be met with pure defiance oozing from the face of Venamis. Harry moved forward and soon was brutally ransacking the Sith's mind.

Images flashed through his mind. It was clear that not only was the Bith's mind utterly vile and reprehensible but that Venamis was fighting him with everything that he had. As Harry began trying to rip information from his enemies mind he felt first the fear and then a deep anger.

Most disturbingly, after a long moment, he felt satisfaction.

Dark tendrils seemed to grapple with Harry's mental construct like a giant shadowy octopus. It's many limbs tried to ensnare him and reach around him trying to pull him deeper and deeper in.

The Sith's plan became apparent soon enough as in the centre of the Sith's mind was a pit radiating a hungry nothingness.

It was clear to Harry that Venamis was getting desperate, having little defence against Harry's magical crafted construct with his own abilities, and Venamis had stopped trying to force Harry out but was now drawing him deeper in.

Venamis was destroying his own mind.

This was not out of some sense of true loyalty to his absent master, the Sith cured their apprentices of that weakness amongst others soon enough, but rather out of fatalistic spite.

Venamis had apparently decided that he was going to destroy Harry no matter the cost.

With a great wrench of both the Force and magic Harry was able to crack and break the bindings on himself and force his way free from the unique mental attack.

Unfortunately the Bith's mental satisfaction was well deserved as Harry had taken some time to do this, relatively speaking, and almost all of the information that Harry wanted was no longer there. This was not helped by the damage Harry had caused in simply freeing himself as, in fact, that had helped the process of destruction.

Feeling the nothingness begin to expand ever faster towards him Harry knew that he had to escape before it reached him. If it did manage to get to him it would suck him in like a black hole and result in a painful personality death as it ate his construct.

Harry made a desperate mental grab for what information he could while avoiding his own destruction, leaving Venamis a mental vegetable, by his own hands, seconds later and even Harry was surprised by the unorthodox nature of the Bith's assault.

Though innovative Harry supposed that he should have expected an assault like this as Banite Sith had survived by keeping as many of their secrets as they could at any cost.

In the end the only pieces of information he received was a name and seeing that the battle outside was, quite predictably, now easily swinging back into his forces favour he quickly headed back to the hangar.

On the way he passed the door to the barracks where men still struggled to open the door that he had sealed but he didn't stop to help them. If he did they were likely to simply kill him and then look for a way to escape and so he left them to their fate.

He waited, somewhat impatiently, for one of his fighters to come for him (with the reinforcements that were no longer strictly needed). He also trusted that his fleet would deal with the remaining pirate ship while leaving this one until last as he was on it.

As a mental exercise while he waited he began to compile a list of problems to send to Nicolas so that he, among others, could try and fix these flaws from his ships designs. After all, even without the Battle Meditation, this battle could have so easily ended completely differently.

In the end he was only able to get a small scrap of information from Venamis's mind and that was only a single name. This would also be sent along to his head of R&D (as well as unofficial spymaster) for analysis and further work.

Harry dearly wanted to know everything there was to learn about Rugess Nome.

Much later after the battle was finally done and he had eaten and meditated to restore his strength Harry was about to set his course home when he received a holo transmission.

It was from Nicolas and, needless to say, he took the call in his private quarters.

As the beam of blue light left his desk console and solidified into an image of his friend Harry couldn't help but smile warmly at the man.

"Nic. How are you?"

"Fine my Prince" and then the alchemist smiled even as Harry winced. "Although I do have some bad news as I don't think that the rune clusters currently used on the ships will ever work in their current configuration. There is simply no getting around that fact that heavy concentrated fire is simply too much for the clusters to absorb. Once they reach a certain point a cascade failure is inevitable as they become more and more unstable…".

"Then the shields fail and the ships explode easily enough" said Harry guessing the end of his friend's thoughts.

"Exactly. I am working on another idea that, though less useful, will be less rune intensive. On the plus side I don't think that we will have to scrap those from your fighter or the magi ones but only tweak them to be less demanding as they have an active magic user as part of the circuit. If you could give me more staff I would happily work on improving their armament though?".

"When they are trained you will have them" Harry promised. "You mentioned another idea?"

"Yes" replied Nic " instead of the old sets what if…" At that moment a particular beeping sounded throughout the room.

"I'm sorry to cut you short but that's Luna's tone. Can we finish this talk later?"

"Of course my Prince" Nic responded with a smirk and cackle before he disappeared.

" _Why_ must he torment me?" Harry asked the empty room before he turned and accepted the call from Luna only to see her distraught face. "Luna? What is the matter?".

Even the blue lightform that she projected through the emitter showed that her eyes were discoloured and that she was (and likely had been for some time) crying as fresh tears were still falling down her face.

"I killed them Harry" she said "I'm a monster".

"Tell me what happened" Harry replied patiently. He knew, from his own bitter experiences, that simply telling her that she was not would not help. It had never really worked for any guilt he was feeling anyway.

"My fleet arrived and destroyed theirs and that was easy enough. The problem was that as that happened the rest of the able population just kept getting into whatever could fly and never stopped trying to board us. The Goblins had a field day" Luna began.

"As expected" Harry interjected. "Their might equals right philosphy combined with their general xenophobia makes them predictable up to a point".

"We contacted them after their main ships were lost and tried to make them stand down through negotiation but….they just wouldn't listen".

"No. They would see that as a half hearted attack and a form of weakness. At least that's my understanding of them. What was your next step?"

"They were preparing ground to ship missiles they were loaded with the very best of their ordinance from what we could tell". Luna spoke softly the subject matter obviously not only new but very painful for her. "I destroyed them" her voice had, by the time of this simple sentence, become full of sadness and self loathing.

"All of them? Did you glass the planet? Destroy the solar system?" Asked Harry.

"No! I destroyed the city that the weapons were coming from, as well as their entire leadership that was in the city, from orbit. I then sent down teams to strip any and all technology that we had traded to them over the years".

"You" asked Harry "destroyed Tol-Kachorn?".

"Utterly" she sobbed. "There was barely anything left in the crater I made".

"You are not a monster" he said firmly.

"I am" came her quick reply and just as firmly.

""Luna… the Sith are monsters are we agreed on that?" He waited until she could firmly nod and then continued " They would have done everything that I suggested that you might have done and so much worse. They would have at least glassed the entire planet and slowly killed the generation that spawned their leaders before they even landed on the planet itself. Trust me, though Banite Sith are generally more sneaky than their historical brethren they would have done something just as horrible or worse before the end".

"I still did what I did" she pointed out.

"And not only were there far worse things that you could have done but you felt bad about what you had to do as well. The Sith never would have cared….a monster wouldn't care".

"Really?" She asked in a small, timid and childlike voice.

"Really" he affirmed.

Her crying slowed and eventually stopped as Harry kept reassuring her that she was not a monster and she eventually seemed to lighten under his caring gaze. All Harry wanted to do at that moment was hug her and try to take away her pain.

That would have to wait however as no one had yet worked out how to hold a hologram.

The Galaxy was often a hard and horrible place and tough decision were becoming the norm, especially for them, and it made Harry very sad that she had to learn that lesson so early in her life in the greater galaxy.

Eventually the long conversation that followed (with Harry almost constantly reassuring Luna) he moved back to the main bridge, lost in thought over his worry for her pain, before looking up to see all the droids awaiting his command.

"SE-4 take us home".

After she had calmed down and spoken to Harry Luna had one final call to make as something had been nagging at her for quite some time. With a flick of her wrist the hologram of the person she wanted to speak to appeared in front of her.

"Lady Luna?" asked Nic quizzically " Is there something wrong?".

"I'm not sure yet. It's just...I've been thinking alot...about Hermione...something has been nagging at me ever since Harry told me the details of the visit." she replied.

"Oh?" Said Nic even as his face closed up and almost became like stone to her. "What about her?".

"It took me all this time to figure out what was missing... but...I think there might be something wrong with her. I'm tempted to go back to Earth and find out what but first I thought I'd call you to ask your opinion first and, if necessary, ask you to keep Harry out of trouble".

"And this theory is based on?" He probed.

"The fact that she didn't hug Harry, the Hermione that I knew _always_ hugged Harry, and that led me to think that maybe she was not in full control of herself. I know it sounds far fetched…"

"Because it is".

"But can't we do something about it?" Luna asked even as Nic sighed seemingly weighing his response.

" _You_ can't but I might be able to" seeing that she was about to object Nic held up his blue hand and she waited for him to continue. "First, as much as we would all like to help her if what you believe is true, you and Harry are the only ones able to train more Knights at the moment not to mention your other responsibilities in the Commonwealth".

"But she is our friend!" interjected Luna hotly.

"Which leads me nicely to my second point. You cannot be impartial about whether she is acting of her own free will or not and think….think for a moment how this might impact Harry".

"What do you mean?" Luna asked.

"If you are right" began Nic "then we would need a way of getting back to Earth and finding her _without_ Harry knowing and a damn good extraction plan. I mean you of all people saw how affected he was after her parents turned up without her. Like it or not, if we tell him, he would go tearing off to try and help her regardless of the risk to himself and...cooler heads are needed".

"We could ask Chime or one of the other phoenixes" suggested Luna.

"They can flame only one person at a time and that would be a great disadvantage for anyone going in. As for extracting her that way….I know from my spies and Augusta that it is now common knowledge that Harry has a phoenix (thanks to a leak in Augusta's security that has been plugged) and Hermione, more than most, would be prepared for what they can do" responded Nic.

"So we need a plan?"

"Not yet. We need more information first because, quite frankly, you could be wrong and this could all be a result of her own choices. We need to determine which before deciding how we will act and even if we will act at all".

"You don't believe me?" she asked.

"It's not whether I believe you or not but let me play devil's advocate here. If we went to Harry now and told him there was hope for her and we somehow, someway captured her and it all turned out to be her choice what would that do to him?" He countered.

"It would crush him all over again" she responded firmly. "I can't afford that to happen to him".

"Neither can the Commonwealth" agreed Nicolas.

"So what do we do?" she asked.

"Keep it to ourselves for now. I'll set my spies to watch and wait and if they find proof to act on we will find a way to do so. The only other way is if the situation changes on Earth and we have a legitimate reason to go back there in force...then we might be able to capture her and speak to her before trial".

"Trial?" Asked Luna a little shocked.

"She did rebel against the Crown" he said and Luna sighed admitting his point.

"I don't like this" she said simply.

"Neither do I" he responded "but like it or not we all have other responsibilities now that cannot be put aside because someone might, in a million to one shot, be innocent without any proof".

"So what do we do?"

"I send my people, very quietly, to look for the proof and no one tells Harry..."

"And if we find proof?"

"Then we go" Nicolas said firmly "straight away. We will use every method to bring your friend home".

"I still don't like it" she responded.

"Neither do I but the fact is we have things now that are bigger than us as individuals and that need our attention". His voice softened at the look on her face " If there is proof I will find it I promise you no matter how long it takes….but it won't be quick".

"I understand" she responded as, as much as she wanted to disagree, he did have a point. "Bye Nic".

With that the conversation ended and Luna turned her mind back to the Commonwealth and Harry even as she tried to put both Earth and Hermione out of her mind and concentrate on the problems she faced now.

Far away from them all a woman sat in shadow was reading reports from her spies in the Outer Rim and, after she was finished, she lent back in her expensive hair and laughed. Her hands were almost caressing the new report in her hand, as one would a lover, that rested on her deep brown antique desk.

He's back, she thought triumphantly, and he's not alone.

She knew what was going to happen now. She would watch and she would wait. She was nothing if not patient and she would make _everyone_ pay for what had been done to her.

More than anyone she wanted Harry Potter to suffer, the pain she had felt was rightfully his in her mind, but it would be applied at exactly the right time.

This had waited a long time, she concluded, it could wait a little more.

The unnamed woman in shadow smiled viciously into the dark and empty room.


	26. Chapter 26

_A/N: This Chapter is late in part due to my beta and in part due to the fact that I seriously damaged my foot. For a man with only one good leg this was and remains a proble,. Still...sorry._

Chapter 26: Melting Pot or New Deal and Embarrassment

100 BBY

Spero

Harry sat in his unadorned chair and thought back on the last five years of his life.

The Silver Commonwealth had grown far faster than anyone had predicted. There were now over one hundred worlds, mostly those that had been terraformed and colonised, that fell under its banner. There were also a few neglected Outer Rim worlds that, having seen the prosperity of their nearest neighbours, had negotiated to join.

He was also happy with how willing each race and individual group that had joined the Commonwealth were to get along. In all fairness it most likely had less to do with any actual willingness to get along but rather that it was a cast iron requirement to join and if there was large descent to the idea they were refused outright.

In his defense it had been a legitimate concern (and was still even to this day) as almost all of the major space faring races were fairly well represented. Aside from humans and Magi there were now Baragwin, Devaronians (with the males making up the majority of the armies scouts and pioneers), Duros (though no Neimoidians), Gran, Verpine, Khil and Zabraks to name just a few.

Aside from the Magi and the ever increasing Goblin population there were now other beings from the Magical World. They now counted small, but growing, contingents of Merfolk and Veela among their citizens. That of course didn't count the many magical species such as Elves, Phoenixes, Unicorns and Dragons that, to one degree or another, called the Commonwealth their home.

Though it would take time, centuries at least, for magic to fully saturate those worlds (especially without a Geo Forge on them), Harry became beloved by many during this time as he organised many of the main construction efforts.

He not only did that but, using his gifts, he also physically spearheaded the construction and more often than not the average citizen often saw their leader side by side with them literally creating their future in front of their eyes.

He was never more thankful, in those days, for his ability to use meditation or occasionally the Force (though not too often as it was dangerous to push his body so) rather than sleep so that he could have time enough to do all of these things as well as his other duties.

It also helped reduce any remaining tensions between the groups by fostering the idea that they were all in this together. This was especially true because neither former Republic citizens and or the Magi were ever part of societies where the leaders did the same work as 'normal' people and to find one that did was refreshing to say the least.

Not that allowances were not made for each species special requirements and to help maintain a harmonious existence. Young Veela were not able to maintain perfect control of their allure and so were instead, at the onset of their version of puberty, given a runic bracelet that helped them control or negate that problem until they could do that on their own.

The few Merfolk who wanted to leave their new aquatic home (permanently or not) in the seas of planets like Spero, whether they did so for new work opportunities or simply exercising wanderlust, were issued with a similar runic belt that maintained a permanent transfiguration which turned their tails into legs and enabled them to breathe air (or at least convert oxygen to water in their systems).

Though there were few Scottish Merfolk there were many more Greek ones and though Harry hadn't noticed it himself that much some others were very appreciative of these very attractive people walking around wide eyed and enjoying learning something new. Neville was even happily dating one from around the isle of Rhodes.

People did manage to maintain their culture in this melting pot of new ideas as instead of loosing their own or holding it above others they happily explored the new while treasuring the old.

The majority of the former Republic citizens held high ranking teaching jobs or were engineers in the Commonwealth. The Goblins tended to either be building something or ended up joining the growing Royal Army on a more permanent basis. The 'muggles' learned as much as they could and fit in almost anywhere and the magi still learned and pushed the boundaries of their magic.

The resulting blend of ideas could easily be seen from where Harry now sat. He was not sitting in the Parliament but rather the other legislative body of the Commonwealth known as the Royal Council. Around the many seats Harry could see a true mesh of all the different societies even if he was currently in the room alone.

The table itself, shaped from one piece of wood by the Magi, was round and was an obvious reference to both equality and long lost Camelot. The non magical population had hand carved the inscription around the rim of the table.

Be true, be just, and be kind circled around the table endlessly repeating until it joined with its own beginning.

There were also runes hand etched on the underside of the table for calm, understanding and patience thanks to Harry and to a lesser extent Luna. From the most technical minded of the former Republic had come the installation of holo emitters in each of the chairs so that if one or more Lords of the Council (the Lord of Colonisation for example) was away they could still be able to interact in a meeting if needed.

Of course the Elves were not to be left out and, in conjunction with the Goblins, they had managed to create (aside from the individual carving on the chairs) each piece of furniture and added to the table itself while the Veela and Merfolk had decorated the room with their somewhat eclectic tastes.

The symbol that the Elves had added on the table (and it's only true form of decoration) was a carved symbol of a phoenix in flight with mother of pearl veneer that was donated by the Merfolk, installed by the Goblins and runically strengthened by the Magi.

The only other things, in terms of his budding society, that Harry worried about had either been solved by others or worked themselves out over time.

The Police Forces were no longer primarily droids (with the recent droid uprisings inside the Republic refugees were understandably nervous) but now counted members of all races and cultures in its ranks and the two years mandatory military service was still in place and widely accepted by this point.

One of the things that he was proudest of, on a personal level, was the fact that he had managed to finish Luna's training and she was now a full fledged Silver Knight of New Atlantis. She had even taken two padawans of her own Aldour Draar and Jenos Keppler.

Harry himself had taken no formal apprentice since Luna as he claimed that he did not have the time with all of his other duties. That being said he did often train the Elves in Force Healing techniques and some minor usages of telekinesis.

As a whole, with Dobby being a notable exception, they had no desire to become part of the nascent Knights of New Atlantis (often abbreviated as the Knights of Atlantis or Silver Knights due to their Silver cuirass). Given their former nature they were happy to serve but they didn't want to, generally speaking, do so in combat.

Becoming Force Healer's was a happy middle ground between their old life and all that they might one day become. Best of all, for Harry's own peace of mind, they were in no way bound or compelled to be anything so it was completely their choice.

They also managed to master the tricks of faster learning that the Jedi and Sith employed and, though occlumency was normally a magical art, they managed a bastardized version that used the Force instead. When they had done so, less than a year after they landed, Harry had decided that every student of the Force would learn both as soon as possible as it enhanced their training speed dramatically.

Given that and the fact that their instinctual gift with magic naturally transferred to a similar understanding of the Force (at least to a very limited degree) they had easily adapted to using that, as well as the advanced technology that they had been introduced to and become the best Healers in the Commonwealth.

Harry had no idea when or if they would become known to the Republic but, if they did, they would soon far outstrip even the best Healers that Coruscant had to offer. At this time however, aside from those choosing to work in the new hospitals, they simply wondered the new Commonwealth as Healers that asked for no money only food and a place to sleep as well as turning no one away.

The last five years had been fairly idyllic for the Commonwealth as their economy was booming with new hospitals and schools being built regularly and many new cities were being constructed in a similar design to the capital of New Atlantis all across their space.

Their only real problem was that, aside from those that wished to enter the Healing Arts, there were far too many Force Sensitives for the few teachers available though that would change eventually one way or the other.

Harry sighed loudly as he knew that, within a month or two, this idyllic time for his home would soon be at an end. Having discussed it with the Royal Council and having their full support his people would now reintroduce themselves to the Republic.

They would not be selling droids this time though as the Republic had proven that they couldn't be trusted. They would also not ever allow any N.A.S. to be traded (not that anyone would be able to reproduce it easily anyway) or researched in anyway and they had several safeguards in place to stop that happening and cause serious injury or death to anyone who tried.

Instead they would trade in rare metals and gems as well as foodstuffs and other low risk (at least to the Commonwealth) items that would help expand the economy. To that end there were even several droid maintained biodomes for growing foodstuffs and several mining operations including those that mined gas giants for the compressed gas that was often weaponised as an essential part of blaster manufacturing (though they would only sell the gas it was still a very lucrative business).

All of their business upper echelons would have biological managers and or figureheads however to help keep the false impression that they were not producing droids and ships for anything other than planetary defence though this was not their newest company.

Technically Harry, though it was mostly Nic's pet project, the Commonwealth were rapidly expanding their business dealings with Almania though their already strong ties within Potter's Triumph. They had capitalized on that and created a sister company called Silver Star that specialised in one of a kind unique ship designs for the most discerning customers.

Harry was personally somewhat uncertain about their reintroduction to the Greater Galaxy despite the Force strongly suggesting they do so in it's oh so cryptic way of a _very_ strong feeling especially as this new company would be in direct competition with the mysterious Rugess Nome.

That was exactly what Nicolas had planned however. He had been stymied by every inquiry into the man and, aside from the usual corruption that surround many of the Republic's most successful, there appeared to be nothing of note about the Bith beyond his exceptional skill.

Suffice it to say that not only was this new company designed to impact the Bith's vast fortune but it was also a form of revenge for the Royal Spymaster for causing him to be so frustrated for so long.

Harry's introspection was broken by his Force Senses telling him of a comforting presence approaching and, without conscious thought, a true smile graced his face as he looked up to the beautiful features of the now twenty four year old Luna Lovegood.

"Worrying again?" She asked him while smiling back and taking a moment to simply enjoy the happiness she saw reflected on his face. Of all the things that they had worried about over the years she had always felt wanted and needed by Harry. She could tell that, in part, every single time that he looked at her with a face like that.

"Hello my love" he replied. In the last five years their relationship had grown by leaps and bounds even as the Commonwealth had done the same. As of last month (currently the happiest day of both their lives) they were now engaged to be married and soon she would become Princess Luna Potter.

Spending everyday with each other had not only finally restored but significantly deepened the relationship that they had shared before he had left through the Veil of Death. Each was a pillar to the other and, though they argued, their shared history, the Force itself and their time together meant that even if they disagreed they could at least always understand where the other was coming from.

Luna moved forward with a quiet grace and then, in her typical fashion, ruined that image by unceremoniously sitting in his lap. She kissed him softly and sweetly as they both took a moment to enjoy the quiet closeness with each other that, no matter the stage of their relationship, both had always craved.

"You always seem to be able to read me so easily even without reaching into the Force" said Harry a little ruefully. In truth if she had it would have done her little good as both kept their presences hidden (more out of practice these days then anything else) more often than not.

"And don't you forget it" she replied in a mock stern tone "You should also remember my terrible wrath if you try and hide things from me" she finished in a teasing tone of voice. Harry laughed feeling some of his worry slip away which, he was smart enough to know, was the point. "So what has you so worried that you forgot that we had a nice relaxing walk planned?"

It had been a tradition between the two of them from the day they had landed to carve out little niches of time to relax in each other's company. It was normally for just under an hour each day as they were both very busy but it had eventually evolved into walks that took them to all areas surrounding the Silver Palace where they would sometimes talk about everything, sometimes simply simple things and often nothing at all.

Sometimes they did other things like flying together, either in ships or using Harry's animagus form (he went slowly and as Luna's form was a red squirrel she easily fit on his back), go swimming together or simply sit quietly and watch their people go about their daily lives.

This endeavour was helped by their both largely eschewed royal pomp and finery with only their distinctive faces and Harry's silver Circlet (Luna's was being made and had been the cause of a very heated discussion by Fide's Mastercrafters over who would get to make it) truly setting them apart.

Of course the Knights of the Silver were still a relatively uncommon sight (given the very limited number of them) and the Jedi style robes that they all wore, as well as the quality of the fabric that made them, did mean they were recognised.

The average citizen of New Atlantis humored their rulers however as, more often than not, Luna did as much to help them as Harry did and while Harry's robes were often seen with gashes and tears in them from construction work Luna's were often frayed or bloodied by the amount of time she spent either healing the sick or helping with growing anything from forests to food.

Though the average member of the Commonwealth didn't say it, as doing so might burst the pairs willful delusion that they were not noticed, many had taken them both into their hearts almost as if they were affectionate and lovely cousins. They then let the pair have this time as they relaxed most often strolling the streets of New Atlantis arm in arm.

It also helped that whenever the children of the city approached them, or one of the many adults for that matter, they always had a kind word or smile for them (more importantly to the very young children Luna always had sweets in her pocket). The simple fact that they willingly moved among the populous happily laughing and joking as they went did something that neither the Senators or the Jedi had ever been able to achieve.

It not only endeared them to the people but it humanised them too. In short they were fast becoming beloved by many.

"Our isolation has kept us safe for so long" Harry replied at length, his face frowning and pensive, even as he wrapped his arms tenderly around Luna's slim waist. "Opening or rather reopening the door to two way communication and commerce between us and the Republic will end that. I'm not a bloody God dear...there is no way that I can see, let alone handle, all the threats that might bring to our home".

"But you cannot deal with the threats to come without opening our borders can you?" She asked shrewdly.

"Not really no. It would be like failing around in the dark…. We need more information and Nic and his spies can only do so much. The Force is silent on the nature of the threat or threats when I reach out to it".

"Because it's too far in the future or because our enemy is Force Sensitive?"

"Who knows" Harry shrugged "At this point I don't think the why of it really matters all that much".

"You committed to fighting the darkness in one form or another years ago….why are you so worried now?" Luna asked clearly seeking to get to the root of his concern.

"Because none of us expected the Commonwealth to grow so quickly and it's growth is still speeding up exponentially. Though the droids still make up a majority of our armed forces including those for planetary defence we cannot stop making them. In fact, if we can, we need to increase production".

"I'll talk to the Council…. We can have several orbital factories created in the Denari asteroid belt within a month" stated Luna

"At least three but eight would be better" responded Harry and Luna then nodded.

"Eight should be easy enough...if we spend their first month making parts for more we should be able to max the conversion of the mineral rich asteroids by making fifteen. The belt will never support more though and you. my love, are avoiding the question".

"Before there was only my own life to worry about and it was not like I wanted to die but, if I had, it would have only been one life. Now I have you and the growing amount of people in the Commonwealth that rely on me to worry about and the responsibility weighs on me" stated Harry unhappily and clearly tired both from his duties and his half hidden worry.

"Harry" Luna began softly "do you remember why, aside from dealing with the 'broad strokes' as it were the Council was created?"

"To balance the Parliament itself I suppose and to provide the Commonwealth with its highest and final court of judgement".

"It was also to help _you_ " Luna pointed out and, at Harry's confused face, she almost laughed. "We all have our own gifts Harry and I have watched you, we all have, trying to be involved and help with everything you can".

"I'm just trying to do my best.." Harry interrupted.

"We all know that dear one but as I said we all have our own gifts and you are not, nor have you ever been, a bureaucrat. Even I'm better at handling paperwork than you are" Luna finished what she needed to say with a smile.

"Well with one of my two votes on the Council being yours the day we marry I'm afraid politics and bureaucracy are always going to be in your future" Harry answered somewhat cheekily.

"I know that Harry but I _think_ you are worth the sacrifice" she joked. "What I'm trying to say is that you are spreading yourself much too thin. You really need to let the Council do its job and give up on the paperwork as well as a few other things…"

"And do what?" Harry snapped tiredly "fight imagined enemies?"

" _Don't_ snap at me" she said softly but with steel in her voice and Harry's face turned to regret as he truly hadn't meant to do so. "Of course I don't mean that but please think about it for a second. You are a trained warrior, archivist and sometime commander but that does not make you a bureaucrat. How much training with your saber or your powers have you done lately? If a problem comes we must all play to our strengths and that does include you. We can't afford you to be rusty and before you even think it you are not just a weapon to the Commonwealth or to _me_. If you've forgotten you are a fair teacher".

"Like to Dobby you mean?" Asked Harry catching on.

"He won't be trained by anyone else and you know it" she replied.

"How is the Ossus project going?" Harry asked trying change the subject.

"Well. The infiltration droids have managed their infiltration and have copied around a third of the remnants of the Great Library for all of our archivists to study including you. They have excavated a tunnel miles away from the ruins to enable them to copy the remaining amount from right under the Ysanna. The estimate that only forty percent of the library is recoverable after all of this time though it is much more than the three percent that the Jedi were able to take when they left. We could one day offer them training but we are short on teachers".

Harry didn't miss the pointed reference to teaching at the end of her statement.

"I get your point. Dobby will be my new Padawan" Harry conceded.

"One of them" Luna challenged.

"Who else?" Harry asked with exasperation.

"Leo Dalon. A descendant of your old friend" Luna replied and even as she said it he remembered his friends passing from a heart attack with a small pang of grief.

"Really? Small world".

"Small Galaxy" she corrected. "Now...can we take that walk?" she asked and Harry grinned widely.

"Why don't we just go and do that". Harry rose and the pair of them walked out of the room and into the city that they both loved.

Soon Harry would begin training his new padawans just as Luna was already doing and, among the Knights, this double system would continue until they had enough to institute one on one training.

Coruscant

Jandray Organa was a well respected man.

Though still healthy and more than able he was in his late sixties and he had spent his life being a negotiator and diplomat for the Republic both inside its borders and out. He was widely respected for it and was seen as a rare voice of calm wherever he went though this was hardly surprising as, having spent his life in service to the ideals of peace and prosperity, he had become one of the most respected (perhaps even the best) diplomat that the Republic could offer.

Though he was not the leader of his people or their representative on the Senate (as his brother was both a family man and more interested in politics) he had managed to be a leader in his field while raising four children and, as an individual, firmly believed in the Republic's ideals.

So when, early one morning, he was contacted by a few influential Senators requesting his assistance there was no shock in either his face or his voice. However the fact that they called him about a world that had been banned from both from exploration or investigation, by the Jedi Order no less, did.

So, before accepting the request, he had done what research that he could on the possible players that he could meet. He thought of them as players as, to him, diplomatic relations were an intricate game with peace and security as the goal and like any game to the victor went the spoils.

Everyone liked spoils.

What he found disturbed him greatly mainly because the massive gaps in the information not only spiked his curiosity but meant that he would be going into any situation somewhat blind.

It all seemed to revolve around the polarising figure of William Potter and, to a lesser extent, his father and brother. Known in his time as the last Jedi Lord he was the last of a dying breed of Jedi and was as much loved by the common populous as he was distrusted by the now modern Jedi especially after he refused to conform.

Now he was often called the Master That Never Was or simply the Never Master by Jedi Historians and, despite what he assumed were attempts to whitewash history, he was now considered a sympathetic and heroic figure by the Jedi that studied him. After all, though they had a checkered relationship with him, he had done much good for them as well as bad.

He had, along with with his brother, eventually called the mysterious world of Cadi home. He and his family had also managed to cut all ties with the Republic for centuries. The reason that his family was so controversial was that they were somehow deeply involved with the last Great Economic Collapse.

Even that he had to dredge from his own families personal records and as his world had weathered the storm quite effectively (though they were only one of a few that did) details beyond that were few at best.

There was not only no information on that system since that date but almost every other piece of information that he would expect to receive to do his job well was either missing or redacted.

He did know that historically Cadi had supplied almost all of the droids that served the Republic at that time and at a far far lower cost than their successors as well as the fact that it had required over fifty companies to fill the void that they had left when they ceased trading.

Though some would consider Potter Industries the spiritual progenitor of organisations such as the Trade Federation he wouldn't even though the laws that had allowed Potter Industries creation had been exploited by later companies to do the same.

The Trade Federation worked to exploit the people and change laws for their benefit. For all of it's faults, including using then loopholes in the laws of the time, at least Potter Industries were always fair with their deals. They were even ethical in their own way and Jandray doubted the Trade Federation understood what the word ethical meant.

There was only one remaining arm of the once great trading empire that Potter Industries once was and that was the speeder company Potter's Triumph. The once war torn world that it was located on now was one of the most prosperous planets in the entire Republic to rival the Core worlds themselves.

How exactly they had been involved with the Great Collapse or the exact reason that the entire system had been banned was curiously missing from the official Senate public record and even with his position he could learn no more about it as even his family records, altered no doubt by an ancestor, were lacking.

All he could find was a single notation at the bottom of a single record stating that one Jedi Master Durvan had been sentenced to a maximum security penal colony for his part in the 'recent troubles' and had died there less than a year later.

As a man Jandray hated mysteries as they were most often puzzles purposely without all the pieces and he enjoyed solving said puzzles most often gaining an insight that others lacked that he could use to further his missions.

As a child of diplomats and politicians however he knew that sometimes, no matter how distasteful, pragmatism dictated that secrets remain hidden and were often necessary for the greater peace and well being of the Republic. Whatever had actually happened back in those times was obviously something that fell into that category and should be left well enough alone.

Still he hated mysteries and, needless to say, he accepted the request for his services.

He therefore quickly began to collect the few belongings that he would need to travel with (as he was not one of those types to travel with an overabundance or many hangers on) from his tasteful and expensive apartment at 500 Republica.

Spero

A few weeks later Jandray was rereading the far too thin file that the Republic Security had allowed him to have only half way through the journey as they cited operational security. He was trying to refresh his mind on the few bits of information that it contained but, given the small amount of information that it contained, the very idea of operational security was a joke in his opinion.

While he did this his transport, appropriately named the _Peacemaker_ , was being escorted by a squadron of Z-95's and one _Centurion_ class battlecruiser. It all felt far too warlike for the quiet man.

Add to the the insistence of including his 'aide' had him already regretting the mission before he started as well as complicating his already difficult job. He didn't even know who she actually worked for but could only assume that Hivril was a spy.

Spies, for the Republic or not, had always made him uncomfortable as he saw them as people who undermined the very principles of peace and cooperation that he sought to spread.

Though as a man he would freely admit (if only to himself) that the woman was a very beautiful example of the Togruta species. She would be more beautiful, he thought, if her features were not so distant as they appeared to be made out of ice.

His thoughts were then broken by the voice of the ship's pilot saying over the comm that the final stages of landing were now completed and they could disembark.

He took a moment to collect himself as, uncomfortable or not, he did have a job to do and if the Potters had only maintained what they once had on new worlds (which he personally very much doubted) then the Republic could use this deal.

Though they had recovered from the Economic Collapse what was not often spoke aloud was the fact that many facets of Republic life and trade still hadn't reached the levels of old and the few that had were rife with corruption meaning that in reality only the rich benefitted as they once did.

There was also the fact that during their recovery they had let their claims on both the Outer Rim and Wild Space (as well as to a less extent the Mid Rim) wither and, even at the height of their prosperity that grip had been tenuous at best. The Republic was more and more looking like a civilization looking back rather than looking forward though few, like himself, realised it.

All diplomats by necessity must be students of history after all.

When coupling these facts with the sheer volume and diversity of goods that Cadi once supplied (even excluding droids) then the Senate was more than eager, they were salivating, to make a deal that could see trade return.

As the ramp opened with a mechanical hiss he and his 'aide' fell into step with each other as they moved down the ramp to be met by a small group of people waiting for them he was determined to make that happen.

Unbeknownst to him Hivril was not a Republic spy or any kind of spy for that matter but rather a member of a secret reformed Jedi sect called the Covenant. The Jedi Master that had replaced Durvan, a Jedi Master Kierga, had created the lost secret order after the threat of rogue Jedi was proven in the actions of William Potter.

It did not matter to them if his actions were justifiable or even legal. One Jedi had forsaken the wisdom of the Council and had, on top of that, stripped another of his connection to the Force and due to petty politics (at least in their minds) and the High Council had been powerless to stop it.

They were formed then to stop the Sith returning, contain or destroy any rogues and if possible keep the tightest watch on Cadi in case any action was ever needed. This new agreement had led to her new assignment and, in her mind, she would stop at nothing to sanitize any taint she found.

If a threat was found, she vowed silently, she would destroy it. It was after all the will of the Force that she do so.

Luna of course knew that she was there and, as she came out of her light mediation, she could easily guess her purpose as the Jedi was practically screaming her thoughts to her. In her defence she had not ever had Banite Sith training to hide herself and so her attempts were clumsy and amateurish to her. After all she may have been practicing against other Jedi for a long while, as her teachers must have as well, but the Order of the Sith Lords had been doing so since their conception after the fall of the Brotherhood of Darkness.

She had no doubt that, with his much stronger senses and years of practice, that Harry could sense it as well and she (like any good politician) was weighing up her options in her head before acting particularly as she did not wish to hurt anyone if she could avoid it.

"Well?" Harry questioned. A test then, she thought, even as they both relaxed in the Council room around the rounded table. He would often do this when he was teaching her and him doing it now, far from making her feel patronised, reminded her of simpler times and strengthened her for what was ahead.

Unlike her they had very effectively clouded their own presences in the Force but they had done nothing to hide the lightsabers at their belts as they knew the exotic weapons would be discovered eventually.

It was more, she thought distractedly while thinking over his question, to keep anyone who could sense them from planning ahead and keep them off balance rather than as an effective form of secrecy.

"Our actions will depend on her answer to a very simple question" she answered even as Harry nodded. He clearly understood, without being told, what she meant.

She noticed the delegation for the first time then, at least in the flesh, as they entered the private side of the Silver Palace and was amused at each persons reaction to the strange and wondrous (at least to them) place that Spero had become. The very air that they breathed, unknown to them, affected them deeply.

To her trained eye it was written over their faces as clearly as if they had shouted it to the skies and the majority of the Royal Council, being very astute individuals, noticed as well. Most of them were actually here in the flesh though a few were here only by holo given the seriousness of the negotiations that they were about to have.

Diplomat Organa for example had a sense of wonder and vitality about him that his calm professional mask was struggling dismally to contain. He also looked at everything with a wide eyed wonder akin to a child discovering for the first time that the world didn't end with the nearest hill that they could see.

He looks healthier than he should, thought Luna, but then with the amount of magic in the air it's hardly surprising. Add to that the ethereal, almost timeless quality, that this place has which is only enhanced by its architecture and he must feel like he is stepping back into some distant golden past. If I was him and didn't know any better I'd probably be doing the same thing.

The false aide slash Jedi Covenant Shadow's face was much more calculating and clearly resisting such delicate beauty. The way her hand twitched she clearly wanted to call for the concealed shoto that she had hidden in her just slightly too wide boot though whether it was for the comfort of something that she knew or to attack was anyone's guess. At this distance she had tightened her mental defences considerably and it was difficult for Luna to get a clear read on her.

It surely didn't help the woman that she and Harry were both dressed in embroidered tomuon wool robes that were cut in the Jedi style. It also didn't help that their vambraces gleamed on their wrists or that lightsabers hung from their belts (Harry had 'retired' his green blade preferring to use his spare hand to cast magic and she had even used the casing for her own blade).

The only difference that was truly noticeable between their weapons, aside from their colour schemes, was that her blade was purple being powered by her own found crystal. Harry also wore his silver circlet on his brow denoting his rank that she, until they actually married, would not have.

Luna wordlessly gestured to the Republic delegation even as most of their attention seemed taken up either examining the room or Harry and soon they were seated on the chairs that had been provided for them.

"Are you not going to introduce yourselves?" Organa asked at length "Or is that not the way that things are done on Cadi at the moment?"

"This place has not been called Cadi in several centuries" chided Harry gently. "It hasn't been since my father left the Jedi Order in fact". Harry's voice was warm, friendly and projected honesty even as he lied about his parentage through his teeth. "For your information we are on the planet Spero and in the capital city of New Atlantis to be exact. This is the center of the Silver Commonwealth and that is a body that has around one hundred member worlds at the moment and is growing rapidly".

"I'm sorry for the error" said Organa graciously and in some confusion even as Hivril, wary at the circlet on his head and lightsaber at his waist, watched him like a hawk ready to pounce. "But did you say that your father left the Jedi Order? Surely you didn't mean William Potter?"

It was clear from the way that Organa spoke that he not only had some small idea of who William Potter was but that he was also somewhat disbelieving of Harry's claim to be his son no matter the honesty that was projected at him. Though even so he was inclined to believe it in some way as the Potter features were famous and clear for anyone to see.

"I did and I do. I am sure that you are aware of the story of Grandmaster Coven and her much extended life span. After all how long does her spices normally live? Sixty years seventy? A similar thing happened to both myself and my betrothed" Harry responded lying once again.

"That would make you…" Organa fished looking for an exact age.

"Several hundred years old depending on how you measure time" evaded Harry and then, after a pause, got back on topic. "To my left is Lord Flamel who is our Chief Archivist and Researcher and to my right..well this is Luna Lovegood my future wife and I am Harry Potter often called Prince Harry or the Silver Prince as I am the constitutional monarch of the Commonwealth".

"Any yet you are a Jedi?" asked Hivril clearly judging him (and finding him wanting) as she pointedly looked at the lightsaber at his belt though she of course already knew the answer to her question. Neither Harry nor Luna were fooled by her overtly innocent tone when asking the question either.

The pair shared an almost imperceptible look and as soon as they did Luna understood that Harry had received the unspoken message that was in her eyes. If she had any doubts of that his next sentence put paid to them.

"Do you always allow your aides to speak for you and so out of turn to a Head of State in his own _home_?" Harry demanded coldly even as some members of his Council either stared at the woman in shock or utter reproach and, in some cases, loathing.

"No" responded a now embarrassed and lightly blushing Organa coldly "I do not". He was also clearly trying to salvage something from this diplomatic incident and bring the conversation back on track.

"Then perhaps" stated Luna while rising to her feet " I can show your aide around so as to avoid any more unpleasantness?"

She caught a look, just the slightest flicker of movement, between Organa and Hivril before the former agreed even as his 'subordinate' was already rising to her feet.

The two women left the rather tense room moving swiftly into a corridor even as the door slowly and softly closed behind them. Luna knew that Harry was already beginning to negotiate for the Commonwealth's best interest and though what the Republic wanted in return was considerable it also happened to be less than a quarter of their current resources.

Though the Geo Forge could handle what they wanted easily enough they currently needed it for other things and Luna didn't need the Force to know that to meet the demand without any future strain all the money that they gained from this (at least for a few years) would go into creating more structures and businesses to meet the Republic's need.

She also knew that Organa had begun the negotiations on the backfoot thanks to his 'aide' and that Harry's attention (aside from a very small piece that was always monitoring the thin magical thread connecting them both) was focused completely on keeping that up so he could wring as many concessions from Organa as possible.

More than that it meant that he trusted her fully to deal with the possible threat that was currently walking beside her and that filled Luna with a warm glow. All of my life, she thought, I have been thought of as looney but here, with Harry, that is not only not the case but I am trusted with some of the most important things to do.

The feeling of belonging that this thought inspired almost overwhelmed her but, remembering her training, she focused wholly on the now knowing that the next few minutes would be critical.

As she walked the marble halls, warmed by hidden runes that were storing and converting low amounts of sunlight to work, she studied this Jedi interloper as covertly as she could manage.

She sensed a deep resolve wrapped around a deep and simmering anger not so much in balance but buried and chained. She was taken aback by how strong that anger was as well as the fact that the Jedi had never touched it.

She slowly and quietly gathered the Force as they walked, not wanting to give anything away, while summoning the magic to her ring (Harry had ordered one produced and it doubled as her engagement ring).

They talked about inconsequential things as they moved towards the Palace speeder pad but, before they reached it, Luna drew them both to a slow stop and turned to her companion smiling both brightly and falsely.

"So tell me" said Luna getting a sense of what her reaction would most likely be but hoping that she was wrong. "What kind of Jedi are you?"

As expected her companion, who just realised that she was not as good at hiding her presence as she thought she was, was shocked and for a split second the Togruta's eyes widened before she tried to summon her hidden lightsaber to her hand with all the speed that she could muster from drawing on her connection to the Force.

Luna however also had her own connection to the Force and was more than prepared.

Even as Hivril's shoto flew from her boot Luna's ownpurple blade hummed angrily as it cut the smaller weapon in two. She then, in the split second it took for Hivril to adjust to losing her weapon, paralysed her with an unspoken thought and an almost colourless bolt of magic from her ring.

Only then (and after patting the Jedi down for any other surprises) did she gently lift the frozen Jedi with magic towards the speeder pad and, when she arrived grim faced, she passed the frozen woman to the two armoured goblins that were currently guarding the pad.

"Get the truth out of her" she commanded " use the room, veritasium and even blood runes if you have to. If she resists in any significant way call for Lord Flamel's assistance do you understand?"

"Yes Lady Lovegood" stated one of the guards even as his partner picked up and bound the newly acquired prisoner and moved to one of the speeders waiting on the pad.

Luna, for her part, opened her mind and relayed what had happened to Harry while calling the twin pieces of the destroyed shoto to her palm.

Back in the Council chambers, up until the moment that Luna had contacted him, Harry had been faintly amused by the Republic Diplomat across the table from him.

The man before him had obviously been at least partially briefed on the history of Potter Industries as he not only combed over every single perspective treaty with a critical eye but was trying every single trick in the book to stop Spero from owning majority stakes in the Republic end of all of their businesses.

The cheeky buggers, Harry thought, they even want to make me retroactively sell the majority of their stake in Potter's Triumph to the Senate for a fraction of their true price.

Needless to say, no matter how delicately put or hidden in the text of the contract, Harry always refused and sometimes he even laughed at their proposals.

The chagrined Ogana had eventually come to the compromise that, in return for tight control on the Commonwealth border, the Republic would be allowed to have first refusal to buy up to ten percent of any new Potter Industries company (though only the branches that were in Republic space) as long as it was owned only by the Senate as a body and the majority of the profits allocated for public works.

The reason he gave for this was the fact that, in his opinion, neither the Republic nor the Jedi Order were doing enough for the common people. Given Organa's face when Harry had given his reasons he didn't like being reminded that his vaunted Republic could do more.

It was also clear that the man and his family were still close to the Jedi given his guarded look when they were mentioned. Even the most experienced diplomat had trouble controlling microexpressions.

However the true point of contention between the two men, above every other thing except a controlling stake in Potter Industries, was the idea of unlimited movement between the two powers. Harry was actually fine with that with the proviso that each would undergo the same tattoo (read blood rune) process as everyone else in his domain.

That was for everyone except the Jedi Order. Simply put the Commonwealth and Harry did not trust them and the idea that the vaunted protectors of the Republic were anything other than paragons of sainthood upset Organa deeply as he viewed his principles as theirs.

To Organa if you insulted one you insulted the other and it took almost every ounce of his hard earned calm not to react explosively.

It was unsurprising then when Organa pushed back and was adamant that movement (whether for trade, cultural exchange or even simply for a holiday) be unrestricted without security measures _and_ allow the Jedi Order the same access as everyone else.

The argument between the two men went back and forth and grew more heated, with the occasional soothing interjection by Nicolas Flamel, and Organa became more and more unbalanced at Harry's decisive refusal and Lord Flamel's calm presence working in concert.

That was until Harry held his hand up to pause the conversation and looked into the middle distance. It was at that moment that Organa realised that he had only ever seen Harry slightly annoyed before and now he saw the face of his true righteous fury. Harry's face was a picture of controlled anger as he stared at Organa coldly and he was radiating disapproval.

"You ask why we cannot trust a Jedi? Why did _you_ bring a Jedi spy with you?" Harry said quietly even as Organa's face began to redden realising that it was a foregone conclusion that his 'aide' had been discovered.

"I don't have any idea what you mean" the diplomat blustered.

At that moment a grim faced Luna walked in, still beautiful to Harry despite the anger and contempt that were twisting her features, followed by a mix of the many races that lived in Spero. All of them were wearing uniforms and all of them were armed.

Luna slapped the two halves of the shoto lightsaber down on the table with an echoing thud and Organa felt all arguments, all reason, leave his mind as he was confronted with the broken weapon.

"The spy" said Harry icily "will soon tell us all that we want to know. Her knowledge at this moment does not concern me but what does _Organa_ is how much you knew. Let me be perfectly clear, if you are not completely honest with me you will die right here and now".

"You would threaten a member of the Republic? You would declare war on the Republic itself?"

"It seems the Republic would go to war with me!" Harry almost screeched in anger filled with the desire to protect his home.

"I can't speak" began Organa soothingly " as to who sent Hivril but I believe, I have to, that it was not the Republic that I love". The honesty in his voice made many pause but neither Harry nor anyone else here was willing to back down just yet.

"Then let us hope" came the calm and measured tones of Lord Flamel "that your Republic is worth the love that you feel for it".

"He's not lying my love and, as for the Republic, we will know soon enough anyway" said Luna. Though Harry was normally very calm and rational when it came to his home under threat he often defaulted to a fierce and protective stance. Luna knew that this probably had something to do with his upbringing with the Dursley's and the resulting lack of home that Harry felt in his formative years.

It was one of many things that she cursed them for..the fact that they had left such scars on the man she loved and most, if not all were healed now. Still the occasional flare up under stress was not unexpected as nobody human was perfect.

She used her bond with him to help him see that (and he was getting better at controlling that reflex as time went on) but it had been a long time since an enemy stood on the grounds of his home and that, combined with the tense negotiations and, to both hers and the Council's views, the unreasonable demands of the Republic had frayed his control over time.

As he calmed slightly she saw her opening and continued "Let him live for now. Soon we will find out how culpable he is in this threat to our home and that will decide his fate". She reached out and stroked his cheek ."Do not let this insult disrupt your balance or all that we have built...it is not our way".

"Fine" said Harry drawing strength from her as they always did from each other. "Let's head to Coruscant and sort this out. Lord Flamel let me know when the prisoner has something to tell us. Harry then turned to another member of his Council " I want the _Patience_ stocked and ready to go within ten minutes. Someone find my padawan's and ask them to get on board and please escort Diplomat Organa there too"

Four men behind Luna moved to obey their prince. They gently but firmly frog marched the man in the direction of Spero's main Skyport despite the man's many protests.

As soon as he had left with his new guards Harry turned to Luna and continued " I want you to command both the _Radiance_ and the _Endurance_. If they become insistent on making me stay on Coruscant then two battlecruisers appearing out of hyperspace might just change their minds".

Seeing that Harry was now calm Luna nodded happily and moved off barking her own orders as she did so. The Council members who had watched this exchange were far from alarmed as they were instead pleased with their rulers quick response.

Which was all to the good because, if enough of them disagreed, they could have collectively countermanded his orders.

"With respect Sire" interjected Flamel "I think that it would be best if we wait for information from the interrogation. That way, once we have pumped her of all useful data, we can take both her and Organa home and we won't have to return to Coruscant again under intense circumstances".

"They attacked our home Nic...and during diplomatic negotiations to boot" said Harry softly.

"I know Harry...just give me some time please" answered Nic looking at his friend and sometime unofficial apprentice beseechingly.

"Fine" said Harry looking into the eyes of one of the few living men that he truly respected "you have three hours...use them well".

Nic, like Luna, nodded and moved off in haste while Harry himself left to go to his private quarters to meditate and seek balance. It would not do for him to be anything other than calm and collected when dealing with the Senate or the Jedi as he bearded the lion in its den.

He also had to pack for his trip.

Jedi Knight Thame Cerulian shifted nervously. Not only was he unsure as to why he and his companion had been called to a closed session of the Senate Trade Committee of all things but he was also in the company of the most legendary living Jedi in recent history in the form of Grandmaster Yoda.

Yoda himself was silent and pensive as they both walked towards the meeting room and whatever surprise awaited them there.

Though Thame was unsettled he was confronted by the steady tapping of Yoda's walking stick hitting the ground and, even though they did not speak, Yoda's presence in the Force was a comfortingly bright glow to his senses that his unsettled mind drank in to calm himself and feel less like an overwhelmed padawan and more like the Jedi Knight that he actually was.

When the door opened they entered what would have been a normal room (as much as Senate meeting rooms were ever normal) but for the fact that there appeared to be five very angry government representatives, including Jandray Organa, and what he assumed were three Jedi.

Then he took in the expensive nature of the 'Jedi's' robes as well as their cold faces and he began to realise how wrong he was to assume that these people were from the Temple. His stomach dropped as he focused on the piercing look in the green eyes on the young looking male almost Jedi's face.

Then he came to a startling realisation. As a Jedi Historian the past, particularly that of the Jedi and the Sith, the historical figures of the Jedi Order were of great interest to him and as the two orders were often in conflict he knew (roughly speaking) who this man was. The face of the man was almost as controversial to the modern Order as the ancient prodigal Knight Revan.

The face of the William Potter, the famous Never Master, was well known to him. Of course he knew that it couldn't be him as William potter by any measure should be long dead. Added to that, though it was not common knowledge even among the Jedi anymore, he was aware of how the Potter family tended to reproduce as were other historians even today.

He felt Yoda's shock and then the small green Jedi Master tense beside him in something close to shock at seeing the face of his former ideological foe.

"We here, why are?" Yoda said softly and who's voice, Thame noted, was far colder than he had ever heard it before. Yoda was also staring at the Potter descendant with an almost hostile interest.

"To clean up your house" came the arctic response from the green eyed man even as Thame could feel the tensions rise in the air as if the two men were some great and powerful beasts preparing to do battle.

"Excuse me" Thame interrupted clearly hoping to diffuse the tension in the room "But who exactly are you?"

"This" stated Organa who was, quite shockingly to the Jedi, just as cold to them "is Harry Potter, son of William Potter, Prince of the Silver Commonwealth and his two Padawans".

"Disturbing, this news is" stated Yoda.

"Why? Because it violates the Jedi's new code even though I haven't claimed to be one nor do I fall under your jurisdiction? Or is it because I'm very long lived? Have you already forgotten what happened to your predecessor as Grandmaster and how long lived, especially for her spieces, she was? If you are concerned about my Padawans let me remind you that learning about the Force is not, nor has it ever been, the province solely of the Jedi or the Sith".

"We mean no offense" Thame interjected though it was clear from the set to Harry's face that he didn't agree. "We do however have some experience teaching the mysteries of the Force throughout our history". Judging from Harry's next words and the sharpness of his response that was entirely the wrong thing to say however.

"I am well aware of the Jedi Order and how they have weakened their instruction in the Force. I am also aware of what they, especially you _Master_ Yoda have done to my family. We do after all keep very detailed records".

"But surely" Thame pressed not wanting a rogue sect of Force Users unchecked and, on a more personal level, wanting to hear stories of the Never Master and what he was actually like. "We could help fill in any gaps in your training?"

He was shocked when the man laughed. It was half dismissive and half bitter and he understood the dismissal even as the man waved him away.

In all fairness he was not to know that (at the time he made his offer) he was speaking to not only a fully trained Jedi but also someone who was in the process of recovering roughly half of the Great Jedi Library.

The fact that, when the Jedi had to abandon Ossus, they had managed to take with them less than five percent of what was in the Library meant that to Harry the offer was kind but about as useful as a goldfish without a tail. Not to mention all the restrictions that would go along with current Jedi training.

"Gentlemen" interrupted Organa sharply "I believe that we are getting off topic. Knight Thame, as a historian, what can you tell me about the Jedi Covenant?"

"A disbanded and misguided cabal" he replied shortly "that is all I can tell anyone outside the Order I am afraid". Yoda looked at him and nodded for him to continue "They haven't existed for centuries thankfully".

The loud sound of something hitting the table on which the man was sitting was the first inkling that this idea may not be true as the metal was nothing other than two halves of a shoto lightsaber.

"Well they are back and they are more fanatical than ever". Harry, after seeing the looks of thinly veiled disbelief on the two Jedi's faces, turned to a guard at the door and commanded "Bring her".

In shuffled a shackled and drugged Hivril and no one was more shocked than Yoda as, as far as he knew, she had died in a tragic training accident as a padawan.

"This group" Harry continued "has many differences from the old one of history. The chief of which is that it works in cells making it difficult to get them all. That being said we were able to, though our own techniques, to…"

"Tortured a Jedi you did" accused Yoda.

"I did not!" Harry bit back "We would never torture nor was their a need"

"If you could tell us what you did it might clear up some misunderstandings?" Thame asked.

"Unfounded accusations you mean? No Knight Thame we will not do so. Frankly the Order has done nothing to endear itself to the Commonwealth even before being accused of torture and besides the method may need to be used again one day".

On other Jedi was the unspoken thought around the room but no one said it out loud.

"Still" continued Harry placing a datapad of names on the table "as I was saying we have managed to confirm over thirty names and they should, eventually, lead you to the rest. Let me be crystal clear here Gentleman...and Jedi…. No Jedi or anyone representing the Order is allowed in the borders of the Commonwealth. If found to be not only will the Republic be sanctioned but I will personally see to it that the Force is utterly ripped from their being. You, Master Yoda, caused my grandfather's death by not trusting him, my fathers exile and I will _not_ allow you to toy with my citizens as you have my family".

"So much hatred hmmm" chided Yoda even as a charge came over the room emanating from Harry almost as if a hidden door had been opened.

"Do I seem full of hate to you?" the Force Users in the room all had to admit that, when Prince Harry released his own aura for inspection (and most likely warning) there was no darkness to him. At worst all Thame could think was that his aura was a light silvery grey that was somehow deeper as if it was more deeply connected to the Force than any Jedi Thame had met.

Thame couldn't help but compare Potter and the Grandmaster and it was like comparing a strong and wide rushing stream to a large and very deep lake. One was shallow and powerful while the other seemed calm but had hidden depths that could rouse to great power.

He also realised that the human before him was _at least_ as powerful as Master Yoda but, beyond that, his comparatively limited senses failed him. That caused a feeling of fear in him that he swiftly controlled as the person before him clearly had no love for the Jedi.

He found himself unconsciously muttering the Jedi Code under his breath at the implications of that.

"We are done here" and with those biting words the Silver Prince and his padawan's left the room leaving both the Jedi with the Seething Republic officials.

"Do you have any idea what you have done?" bellowed Organa his notorious calm, for the moment, shattered.

"Nothing, we have done" said Yoda sternly.

"Exactly." spat Organa "we wanted trade with them and we got it. What we didn't get was anything else we wanted including a piece of their new businesses to guard against another Collapse. We had to give in to their demands to stop them from broadcasting the fact that the future princess was very nearly assassinated by a _Jedi_ of all things".

Organa visibly composed himself before continuing " If you are thinking that they would not be believed you are right, for the most part, when it comes to the Core but in the Outer Rim? The Jedi would be hunted as killers and assassins. Do not underestimate the goodwill that they have secured there. I for one agree with the Prince's sentiments, though I can hardly believe it myself, figure out what is going on in your own damned Order and _clean house right now_ ".

"Excuse me?!" said Thame incredulous at the idea that the Grandmaster wouldn't know what was going on but, with a gesture to the bound and gagged captive, he continued.

"No I will not excuse you. Though I doubt that they would succeed in the end the fact is that this Covenant was growing right under your noses and the legendary wisdom of the Jedi missed it. Now, before you react, let me make the Republic's position perfectly clear to you. Any Jedi that enters the Commonwealth is fair game to them and any Jedi that returns from their little illegal holiday will be held accountable as a spy. The only contacts that the Commonwealth will allow are those that they invite in and high ranking military personnel or non Force Sensitive diplomats. You are not welcome their gentlemen I suggest that you get used to it and I can only hope there is not another Collapse in the next century or so while we work to change their minds because, and I cannot emphasize this enough, the Republic will blame you".

The two Jedi were left without a chance to respond as the men rose and left them without another word and before they could think of a response. All they were left with was the list of names on the table, one bound prisoner and their own thoughts.

Yoda couldn't help but think that, no matter whatever else he did in his life and no matter who he trained, the Potter bloodline would always be surprising and failing to keep them on the Jedi path would always be one of his greatest failures.

Thame, for his part, was reflecting on a bitter lesson that most historians eventually learn. He realised that no matter how much you research, no matter how many datapads you read or how much you think you know about the past there was always more left unsaid or unwritten.

In the next few months the Covenant was brought low with some being re-educated, some expelled from the Order and others punished or sent far away for their cabals actions. The only good thing for the Jedi Order during all of this was that they somehow managed to keep this quiet.

The night that Harry had returned home he lay in his bed next to Luna trying to catch his breath. As the cool evening air gently blew in through their open balcony doors he felt her arms snaked around him and basked in both his love for her and the afterglow of their lovemaking.

"So" asked Luna "what do we do now?"

As Harry gazed down on her naked body, glistening with sweat and illuminated by the gentle moonlight, he wanted to say something smart or soothing but another thought popped out of his mouth instead.

"Get ready for round two?" She laughed gently and musically at his response and then moved closer to cuddle his body.

"You know what I mean" she said.

"I do. Keep training, keep teaching, and build both the Knights and the Magi into fully functioning forces while trying to learn as much from Ossus as we can".

"Is that all?" Luna joked and though Harry's reply was serious he did smile.

"No" he replied "Nicolas and his team are working hard to find new things and improve the old. On top of everything else ships are being built as well as more than enough droids to man them if needed".

"But you are still worried"

"Aren't you my love?" Harry asked.

"Of course. However I can always take a moment and remember that I have you and that, one way or another, this doesn't all land on my or your shoulders anymore".

She then kissed him softly and sweetly.

Did I ever tell you the hardest lesson for a Knight of New Atlantis to learn?" He asked seemingly changing the subject.

"Tell me" she replied quietly.

"The hardest part is to truly balance the light and the dark and it is such a personal thing that finding that balance is different for everyone. Of course you can, and I did, attain a rough balance without truly knowing yourself but it's a shallow thing and always needs attention, always shoring up and watching".

"Sounds very difficult" she joked.

"It is. Far better in my opinion to find a personal reason to backup the code you live by and help guard you against the effects of both extremes.

"So the Codes don't work?" she asked playing along.

"For some they do..especially when coupled with a strong belief. I think it was harder for me anyway because the Sith taught me first and, of the two extremes, the Dark Side tends to act on you more quickly. No for me it was you and to a lesser extent Chime, especially now, that anchor me and stop me losing myself in the highest reaches or lowest depths of the light and the dark. Thank you for that".

"No" said Luna with her small delicate hand moving down his body " thank you Harry Potter".

"What fo...where is your hand going?" he asked his eyes sparkling even as she laughed.

"Round two" she replied impishly and capturing his lips with hers.

There was no more talking after that for quite some time or at least they only talked about each other and how good they felt.

Later they slept exhausted but sated.


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27: Earth for the Last Time

Author's Warning: **There are some heavy inferences to rape in this chapter** if you do not want to read it...skip that part it is quite clear when it begins. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

Author's Note: this Chapter is huge by my standards as I simply couldn't find a decent place to stop...the next chapter won't be.

95 BBY

3,558 ATC

2015 A.D

Harry flexed his new bodies fist as he looked carefully at his beautiful sleeping wife laying next to him and marvelled at how peaceful she looked. The time that they had been married had been, by far, the best of his life and it was almost like the last two months had flashed by in the blink of an eye.

They had changed bodies only a few days ago after dealing with a particularly virulent plague on the Outer Rim. They didn't know for certain if they were infected or not but, with bodies to spare and the risk that it posed to the Commonwealth if the infection had spread, it was better to be safe than sorry.

Staring down at her almost glowing (and sated) body in the morning light he had to ignore his baser instincts to let her get some rest. The lovemaking they had just finished had been everything that she had wanted that night as, after all, it was not only long and drawn out but passionate and caring with many whispered endearments and added carresses to boot.

She did not make this task easier for him in any way when, even in her sleep, she teased him with her small and pert breasts almost wriggling out of the covers as she moved into a more relaxed position. Despite himself his eyes were drawn to them and he licked his lips involuntarily and tried to turn his mind to other things.

In the past five years many things had come to fruition for the burgeoning power that was the Commonwealth apart from the marriage that all (but none more than Harry or Luna themselves) had awaited with baited breath and it was, both to them and the people that they had begun to hold so dear, the perfect day.

The Commonwealth's growth had still managed to keep surprising him and, he had belatedly realised, it was much like the Republic in the sense that they both had expansion phases that drew in many new people and (in the Commonwealth's case at least) many new and previously uncolonised worlds.

There were now over three hundred worlds that fell under its banner and that growth showed no signs of stopping yet, quite to the contrary, it appeared to be speeding up and seemed to have almost have taken on a life of its own.

Part of the reason for that was the ongoing humanitarian efforts that his people had been doing in the Outer Rim since the inception of the Commonwealth. This sent refugees streaming to the new worlds as well as, unlike other small groups or Empires that formed in the Outer Rim or Wild Space, they tended not conquer to gain land.

Technically neither did the Republic though through trade pressures (amongst other things) they did encourage membership in it's ranks as well as, at least on paper, claim the entirety of whole patches of the Outer Rim though their actual claim was tenuous at best.

The main reason many were leaving the Republic, Hutt or unaligned worlds (aside from the influence of the Commonwealth's medical and educational aid in the past) was the simple fact that they were doing something more than the bare minimum for the worlds that they had claimed.

When the Republic colonised a world it was often through proxies (such as the Trade Federation) and even if they did so directly it was often generally given the most basic of building supplies and little else.

The Hutt Cartel did something similar as they were more concerned with using their 'citizens' for anything from slaves or prostitution to running drug rings and making money in any way possible. This meant the last thing on their mind was the actual well being of the people that toiled under their demanding rule and provided for their many pleasures.

Not so with the Commonwealth as they never stopped trying to improve their worlds and make them better or more self sufficient and, in the long run, this made them much more profitable.

Before the first of their pioneers landed basic plans, under the purview of the Lord of Colonisation, would already be in place (tailored to each specific world) for the very first cities and the infrastructure needed for them to work.

In those cities would be many prefabricated (and easily constructed using worker droids overseen by the pioneers) buildings and amenities such as, but not limited to, fully equipped hospitals, schools, universities, sewers systems and where appropriate mines or other buildings that facilitated the growth of infant economy on the new world as well as that of the Commonwealth as a whole.

Personal touches and the eventual individualisation of each planet came with time as did further growth but no current power did more to help their people at the outset as the Commonwealth did.

In all fairness it was easy for them up to a point as they not only had the Geo Forge if needed (and uncharacteristically leaders that took a very long view of history and welfare) as well as all of their other factories that they had but there was the changed nature of the Army to consider.

The Army (barring planetary defence) was no longer largely droid based but was now instead roughly a mix of both droids that were still being improved and organics that lived in the Commonwealth. Though the actual percentages changed year by year this did mean that they had a great many droids that were repurposed for other tasks and the majority went into construction.

So many went into it in fact that it was more than commonplace, even ridiculously ordinary, to see several hundred on old worlds and at least several thousand on new ones creating new things or repairing and improving the older designs.

The Geo Forge was not then, by and large, needed to create builder droids and spent its time creating ships and combat droids (always the newest versions or experimental improvements) and it was the smaller, less effective, factories that would repurpose those same droids when they were not needed.

Where once the Geo Forge may have rested now it was active day and night as, both Harry and Luna sensed, that a great time of upheaval was nearly at hand and though they could not (as of yet) understand what it was they wished the Commonwealth to survive.

That was not to say that the other factories did not produce new units of either building or military standard because they did but rather that they, unlike the Geo Forge, tended to split their time between the two seperate objectives.

The main exports of the Commonwealth, aside from the speeders made by Potter's Triumph and the expensive ships made by its sister company Silver Star, were rare stones, metals and minerals mostly mined from asteroids in their space.

This was especially effective as not only did it provide cover for the Geo Forge (if it was ever needed to take up the slack of producing goods once again) but because unlike both the Cartel and the Republic the claims that they mined from were fresh and hadn't been overmined or even discovered by anyone else unlike the majority of those elsewhere in known space.

As well as traditional businesses they also had a booming trade in tourism (with very few and heavily monitored trips to Spero somewhat of a rarity) and it was this that Harry was most proud of.

The main reason for this was that it not only brought in a lot of money but helped spread both the idea of the beauty and desirability of the Commonwealth to new potential citizens but raised the standing of it among the people of the Republic and the Cartel if not always those in power.

Silver Star though lucrative in terms of money was less effective in it's secondary purpose. Needless to say as it was set up in direct competition to Rugess Nome it cut savagely into the man's profit margin but it struggled to gain any information about the man himself.

Though the company did manage to gain the goodwill of the upper echelons of the Senate even those new 'friends' came up empty when making discreet inquiries regarding the Muun even when it came to gaining the barest hints of his actual life.

Harry had even given a few of his ships as gifts to the most influential (and corrupt) Senators who in turn managed to provide an influx of new customers for the new company and further extended its influence into the Mid Rim Senators who emulated those of the Core.

In short his ships became a status symbol of wealth and power that were the envy of many.

Their other greatest export, which they currently provided at cost, was to supply items and manpower for relief from natural disasters and medical supplies for the most impoverished worlds.

This was one of the main reasons that Harry and Luna had changed bodies more than once because disaster relief was still one of the most dangerous things, irrespective of technology, and more than once both found it very useful to have a spare body or two on hand.

Thankfully every ship that was part of the Commonwealth had at least one magically hidden and Force locked compartment that held a clone of each of them for emergencies such as that so dying, in the traditional sense, was less of a concern for the married couple.

Harry's friends and confidants had also come far in the past five years. Just two weeks previously both Dobby Silvereyes and Leo Dalon had passed their trial of Knighthood and taken two new padawans each.

Luna's two had done the same around a month before she and Harry had married and though she had also taken two new padawans on her return Harry hadn't as he preferred instead to teach only in emergency situations or by simply training more Elves to be Force trained Healers.

Neville had, at the age of twenty eight (some two years ago), ascended to the position of Grandmagi and also, when not involved in his Council duties, helped both Nicolas Flamel with the R&D side of his own job or supervised with his now fairly immense magical skill either helping the Magi in the colonisation of new worlds or helping the magical members of the Army train.

Technically the Army was only the ground troops and the Navy was anyone in ships but, in the Commonwealth, the two terms were used interchangeably so he was actually training and helping both as and when needed.

All of the other immediate friends of Harry's family were happy with their current positions and doing very well in them to boot.

The number of Magi were also increasing due to the fact that the inbreeding of Wizarding Britain was a thing of the past and, when combined with the ever increasing magic that was on Spero (now vastly and quickly increasing due to the Geo Forge's constant use) meant that not only were more muggleborns cropping up but also that the transplanted Magi as a whole were doing something that was almost unheard of in their history.

They were giving birth to twins. A lot of twins.

Still life was very good in the Commonwealth, if very busy, and having taken Luna's advice to heart Harry, prince or not, not only kept up with his magical and Force training regimen but improved on it.

When he was not otherwise engaged he could often be found arguing magical theory or practicing with Neville and Nic. He also persevered with gaining skills from the information that they were still recovering from Ossus.

He also was able to solve one of the mysteries, at least in part, that had plagued magical history. It turned out that contrary to what they normally did the magical community had got something right.

The beings known as House Elves, along with Dementors, had once been of the same race.

They were once known as Atlanteans but, as the still unnamed cataclysm had begun to ravage their homeland, some who were otherwise blameless tried to make themselves part of the Earth's magic to survive while others continued the arts that caused the problem in the first place and were cursed.

The cursed of course became the Dementors but the others were much more interesting to Harry. Using magic in a way and scale that had never before been attempted, along with the largest ritual anyone had ever conceived, that had not been attempted since they had begun to shed their physical forms and had intended to become at least part living magic.

They had succeeded to a point but the few thousand that had been involved couldn't agree, at a critical moment, what exactly they would look like or what they would do so Mother Magic in her infinite and infantile wisdom had turned them to her purpose.

That was how House Elves were born.

A life of service for an unspeakable crime that was still not spoken of and had caused the destruction of their famous island. This helped Harry because, though they couldn't use it, they were able to teach Harry, Luna and Neville (as the incumbent Grandmagi) certain spells and secrets that would have otherwise been lost under the angry waves thousands of years ago.

They each, by unspoken agreement, learned the words slowly and carefully with each starting at a different collection of words to maximise their learning.

He had also modified the interior of the _Patience_ to carry the _Daring_ , a top of the line speeder, as he had learned that often speed of action counted more than forethought and planning.

This was especially true when searching out and possibly encountering new Jedi or Sith ruins or finding lost techniques on the Force (especially Holocrons) as there were almost always other interested parties.

Luna, for her part, tolerated her new husband's wonderlust and even joined him on occasion knowing that Harry was the type of person that always had to be doing something and that every so often that meant literally going somewhere.

As much as he had accepted it sometimes it was also a relief for him to go somewhere where he was not the _Silver Prince_. These infrequent journeys allowed him that space to breathe and, more often than not, he was also able to bring back something useful.

The only major downside, that he was aware of, was the disappointingly few runic arrays that worked on his ships though they had mostly solved that problem.

The Mark I's and II's had been stripped of almost all magical enhancements such as their clusters of runes while the ones on the in the _Bluebirds_ and the _Starbursts_ had been limited and refined to rely on the user's magic and not overtax the systems they powered at a loss of power to the enhancements.

Thanks to the magical nature of the N.A.S. (thanks to the relatively small power drain when compared to other methods) when R&D had finally worked out the proper expansion charms all fighters were equipped with both bombs and missiles creating a fully functioning and truly unique fighter bomber hybrid.

They had compensated for the lack of runic protection by adding extra diamond and phrik coated (at least at a microscopic level) armour to the outside of their hulls. While this was not as good as the shields could have theoretically become if the runes had ever worked properly they did save the Mark I's and II's from being destroyed from a single direct hit from a larger weapon.

Most fighters were, especially by ones that hit the cockpit directly, but all of the diamond fighters could take two head on impacts with before being destroyed if the cockpit itself was not truly breached. Naturally both the _Bluebirds_ and the _Starbursts_ were given the benefit of both the new weaker runic shielding and the new armour.

The larger ships didn't fare much better. In fact, due to the larger and more powerful charms and runes needed, the problems for them were exacerbated over a thousand fold but at great length a solution of sorts was discovered.

In the new design the ships hull armour was increased by a minimum of twenty percent and the engines, though top of the line, were unmodified by spells or runes. Instead of shield modifying runes they had used the less troublesome expansion runes to install a second redundant shield system but that, in and of itself, was not where the real genius of the new design lay.

When he first came to Bluestone and began his 'tinkering' he had come across heat conversion runes initially designed to boost the heat of a forge by converting some of the excess light.

Later similar versions were used in the Hogwarts Express to help it move faster and when he had taken the idea to Nic R&D had taken the idea apart and set to using the underlying principles for their own purposes.

It had taken years but this backup plan (as it was nowhere near as easy to implement as their original design had been) was put in motion. First they stripped all but the most basic standard heat absorption technology from all offensive armaments on the larger ships.

The next step was the simplest and the most tedious in that they then used heat conversion runes to turn the excess heat into power and though they had yet to design some sort of battery to enable the power to be sent anywhere (though that was still the long term goal) they had used a series of cables sunk underneath the deck to send the variable flow of power into the shield recharge system. There were also several heat sinks that would activate in case of unforeseen issues.

Essentially the more their warships fired the quicker the shields would recharge and that, combined with the second shield that would kick in if the primary shields fell below thirty percent, meant that when in combat his ships effectively tripled their shield life at a minimum as long as the weapons were firing. When one shield was active the other was charging after all.

At this point in time the only great worry left for someone on Spero was something that Harry himself had no idea about.

-LAFA-

In his modest home on the other side of the city Nicolas Flamel was sitting in a comfortable chair and drinking some very nice whiskey and mulling over a very particular problem as his wife slept contentedly upstairs.

It had been years and yet both his spy network and Augusta's own people had not been able to find any proof, one way or the other, that Hermione was acting out of anything but her own will. He had even asked Luna to meditate on it, several times in fact, but the Force was silent.

He also had many other things to do and many other responsibilities than find news on one wayward girl, no matter who she was or how deeply some cared for her, as did everyone else involved in the Commonwealth's wellbeing really.

He had to create, expand and run his ever growing spy network for one. With over three hundred worlds in the Commonwealth it was a monumental task and that was only the internal spy network as the external one was both far far larger and much more difficult to manage.

He had used all of his skill at politics and double dealing that had managed to keep himself and his wife both alive and hidden from those that would steal his stone throughout the centuries and the thin and almost imperceptible tendrils of his will, of Harry's will, were moving deeper and deeper into the Republic even now.

Given the timeframe between when he had first discussed the idea of leaving the planet with Harry and his wife until now he was astounded by how things had evolved. Spero had moved from simply a place for the disenfranchised to go but it wasn't as easy as simply snapping your fingers and making things happen.

It had been a lot of hard work and toil as well as many long days to get to this point but he treasured them all. Now the once empty world was at the heart of a growing power that not only fought for but protected those under their care.

He had enjoyed watching all of the people grow into who they had become. Neville had come far from the shy wizard that he started as, diligently applying himself as much as possible, to become the Grandmagi and thereby representing all of the Magi on the Royal Council.

Luna, aside from helping him (or trying to) with his research into Hermione's situation, was training as many Force Sensitives as she could as well as helping his own wife with the Commonwealth's schooling.

Thanks to the new schooling system (that enabled Force Sensitives to be trained around regular schooling) and the fact that, far from discouraging relationships, the Commonwealth actively encouraged the marriage of all those with gifts including its potential and future Knights so much so that within a few generations the Knights might even be able to rival the Jedi Order in terms of numbers it was an ever increasing struggle to find enough teachers for all of the new citizens.

This in turn had brought Pernelle into the equation. Unlike the Jedi they didn't train the Force Sensitives from birth but taught basic classes in control and simple applications from the age of four until eleven.

After that and with the input of the families involved (as well as combining the Elves new Forced based form of Occlumency and Jedi learning cantrips) they decided if the path of the Knight or Healer was for them and similar time scales were used for those with different lifespans to humans.

Needless to say they took a similar path with the Magi born and though the Magi's initial training was longer as they could not employ both learning techniques the training of a Knight from padawan stage (which began when they made their choice and a master was found) usually took around six years though it could be as short as four or as long as ten.

The constant support of friends and family, contrary to the Jedi view, had enabled those that decided on that path to flourish and gain a better grounding for both their studies and the life of service that lay ahead of them.

Loathe as Nic was to ever credit the Sith with anything he found that they had a point in trying to choose more experienced students than their counterparts,if not for the same reasons as the Commonwealth did, as most of them had historically been world weary and slightly corrupted adults to begin with.

Even at the tender age of eleven those that chose the path to knighthood had more of a sense of self and their place in the Galaxy than the average Jedi Padawan had years later.

The person that had impressed Nic the most however was Harry himself and that was the crux of his current problem.

He moved to the bookcase that was next to his chair and pulled down the _Knights Way_ and took a moment to caress both the the simple cover (only a small silver star on a black background) and the first page tracing the words of their code even as he muttered it.

"Emotion, yet peace" his soft voice broke the silence even as it continued "ignorance, yet knowledge. Passion, yet serenity. Striving to master fear and understand power. I am the heart of the Force. I am the revealing light and the mystery of the darkness. I am the balance, first and foremost, between chaos and harmony. Immortal in the Force".

Speaking the words, though they could not apply to his life in the same way as would a Silver Knights, helped focus his thoughts more on Harry.

The man had thrown himself into the role of the Silver Prince with the same gusto and enthusiasm that he had done with everything else. He had done so with such force in fact that Nic had to wonder, knowing the pressures of his less hectic but still exhausting schedule, when his friend and irreplaceable sometime student the Prince found time to sleep.

One of the first things that Harry had done was to organise the recovery of as many Holocrons as he could that were left over from the ancient evacuation (especially those that were housed in the Chamber of Antiquities).

From these Harry had recovered the ancient Je'daii Code and formulated both the new code that was in the _Knights Way_ but also, with the help of Luna, wrote the book in its entirety to help reinforce and instruct in regards to the lessons that each prospective Knight must learn.

He held the book reverently and though he couldn't use it he was, first and foremost, a scholar and loved books and enjoyed the fact that he was given the very first finished copy.

To some, he thought, the book was simply mystic mumbo jumbo or simply a series of in depth philosophical lessons and quite frankly beyond me outside of the basic concepts but I can't deny its effectiveness.

Aside from all of that Harry was not only the overall leader of the Commonwealth but a very active one as well especially in and around Spero.

He would help, using his gifts, in the construction. He would teach, as a guest, at local primary schools and help design and test new designs for his ships and he had even spent some time with the Army and sparing with all of the Padawans and Knights that passed through whenever he could as well as maintaining his relationship with Luna.

If Nic himself was the eyes of the new Commonwealth and his wife (among others) was its conscience then Luna and Harry formed its heart and head easily. His only real gripe with the pair was that they had refused to have a child, an heir, straight away.

They preferred instead to rely on the tried and true method of blood bags and clones to secure their legacy for now as they currently felt no rush to have children at this present moment in time.

Still, Nic thought going back to the issue in his mind, given everything that we have all been through together and the fact that Luna and I have hit dead ends we should probably inform him of her suspicions and soon at that.

He resolved himself then and there to speak to Luna and together they would, after perhaps another month of searching and rechecking their information, tell Harry about her suspicions.

They would have to wait at least that long to fully go over everything and to make sure, one last time, that they couldn't do this themselves and he had the feeling that no matter what they found Hermione's fate would hurt both Harry and her parents.

By the time that they resolved to act would come upon them it would be too late however as the conversation that they would both agree to later that day would never have the chance to occur.

-LAFA-

The Lord of Scotland sat behind his desk and surveyed his current domain in what was once the office for the Headmaster of Hogwarts and was now his as the undisputed Lord and Ruler of Magical Scotland.

Since the fall of the rightful government (at least in their view) the Ministry of Magic many people had fled to Hogwarts to regroup seeing the ancient bastion as the one truly safe place left for them.

Then the muggle Queen's agents had erected a barrier that stopped them leaving.

The Lord of Scotland ran a calloused hand over his lined face fully aware that years ago, even with his extenuating medical circumstances, his face had not been so careworn and there also wasn't as much white in his hair as there was now.

That nasty barrier, he thought bitterly, has caused us so many problems. Everything from food to basic accommodation was impacted by that fucking thing and that was only the beginning of our troubles.

Even now, he knew, enemy 'Royal' Wizards and self entitled muggles crossed the barrier and actively stole their future kind (the young magical children) from them as often as they could and though they were rarely successful every single drop of magical blood that was lost was of great concern.

Thanks to Hogwarts impenetrable wards they had managed to survive however.

They had even managed, as a society, to adapt to the loss of House Elves though it had more impact than expected as most took for granted what they had done. Any muggleborn above the age of four that was found had their magic bound and were forced (along with their parents) by spells, potions and rituals to become the servants that they were always meant to be as were the squibs.

Then they were forcefully bred with all but the first magical born from each union suffering the same fate.

Of course this fate only applied if they were able to get to their houses before the rebellious scum and often that was a very close run thing as they seemed to have a detection device on par with the Hogwarts Book itself.

They were closer to their targets than their enemy but, due to their circumstances, said enemy was better equipped, trained and generally outnumbered them.

The few fully trained half bloods that had entered after the time of change or had been at Hogwarts at the time had been given the choice of accepting the new regime or serving it in a new way.

Those that had refused the new order of things or failed to adapt to it had served by being ritualistically bound to the wards enabling them to be strengthened and expanded.

This allowed the majority of his people (or at least those he deemed the least useful which was most of them) to settle the land around Hogwarts in relative safety and eventually become mostly self sufficient.

Those that had accepted had either been allowed to manage their Houses or in the case of those without a title had, along with those muggleborns under the age of four or the first born of the servants, been magically adopted by 'proper' families and as a result their base makeup had been altered to closely match that of their parents but allowed enough genetic diversity to lower the chance of squibbing dramatically.

It was a hard fought battle, especially at first, to form this new society and many had wanted to capitulate or assume the role of leadership instead of him but none of them were suitable to his mind. More importantly, it turned out, none were trained by Dumbledore in the arts of misdirection, subterfuge and politics.

And he had learned his lessons well after all it was not Nott, Avery, Rookwood, Malfoy or even Snape that had ever been Dumbledore's heir but him instead.

Before the Great Catastrophe he had only been, to the majority of people anyway, a minor pureblood of an insignificant house (that had disowned him) and it was only Dumbledore's intervention between his first and second years that had opened the eyes of the lonely little boy that he once was.

Of course it helped that the old man had cured his 'affliction' and, when he added his many years of secret tutelage under the man, it had enabled him to eventually rise to the position of leader of all of his kind.

Truly, he thought, the wise man was more of a father than mine ever was or ever could be.

Using the lessons that he had been taught throughout his life by his spiritual father he had adopted an unassuming guise, something that he had a great deal of practice at, he had followed those peoples attempts at scrabbling for power with detached interest.

He had even helped Nott poison Avery and then assured that the evidence of that (minus his own involvement of course) found its way into the hands of the eldest Malfoy and let him know quietly that it was he who sent the information earning himself favour at the same time as incriminating Nott.

When the inevitable battle between Malfoy and Rookwood (a cousin of the more famous Death Eater and head of the family) had begun he had planted weaknesses in Malfoy's own camp as he quietly switched sides. He had done it so well in fact that Rookwood thought that his defection was his own idea.

The Lord of Scotland had learned that important lesson a very long time ago. The easiest way to get your own way was to make someone think that it was their own idea and not yours.

Needless to say Malfoy's fall from grace was swift, vicious, and one that the man didn't survive. In fact, by the end, the Lord of Scotland vividly remembered that he had begged for death many times and seemed to welcome the death that was his due like a lover when it finally came.

He had then gleefully stabbed Rookwood in the back with a basilisk fang as the man turned in wild celebration of their victory and, in that way, ascended to his rightful place as the undisputed leader of all magical people and claimed (at least theoretically) to be the leader of Great Britain.

This was a title that, as Dumbledore's heir, he claimed and not only deserved but would make as true as his current Lordship of all of Magical Scotland or he would die trying.

His hand moved slowly, caressing the desk that was both his and Dumbledore's, before opening a hidden compartment and removing two vials knowing that the majority of his successes were because of these (even though one was empty) and because of that fact he found that he liked to take them out every now and again and look at them.

To him they were not just reminders of both the past and how they got to the present day they were also his trophies and a vivid reminder that his work was not finished yet. It couldn't be finished until his dream, Dumbledore's dream as well, was realised and all of the United Kingdom (not just Scotland) recognised his leadership and submitted to his power.

He conjured a tea set and poured the last small amount of the remaining liquid from the second vial into one of two cups and then added tea to both.

Then all he had to do was wait for his guest to arrive and thought more on the days before his rise when he was just a quiet unassuming man and (in secret) Dumbledore's ideological heir.

She has been my greatest servant, he thought proudly, and all it took was a regular dose of a combined loyalty and trust potion at first.

The fact of the matter was that potions of that type were much more effective if there was some element of the emotions they inspired already to work with and she had always had a weakness for authority figures and bookish people.

That was what had caused her to seek him out after all when Harry had told her his incredible story. It was also the reason that the small voice in the back of her head, so bound and befuddled by the potions, that told her to trust and believe in Harry was silenced.

Under the potions grip, renewed in her system right after she was released from healing after the Department of Mysteries battle and pronounced whole by the Mediwitches (as they couldn't risk the potion being detected by them at that time), she had broken with her long time friend and joined the cause of the true masters of magic.

That however was not the potion that had been in the vial he just emptied.

That standard, though admittedly extra strength, loyalty potion had only lasted until just after she had arrived here as despite repeated doses her magic and mind (which were both very strong in their own right) sought to fight it off with every iota of her being.

Then had come the second vial (the one that he had just emptied). Not quite a potion and not quite an alchemical compound it also happened to be Dumbledore's last great (and secret) achievement.

Though he was many things the Lord of Scotland was no alchemist nor did he have any versed in the rare art in his kingdom. Dumbledore had also left no notes on its creation and, in all honesty, his opinion of Dumbledore would have fallen a bit if he had. So with great sadness he would never be able to make more.

It did however serve its purpose even if this was to be the very final dose and he had greatly enjoyed the fringe benefits.

He knew that originally Dumbledore had planned for this invention to be used on Harry Potter. At the time he had been fine with that though personally he thought that this would have been a monumental waste even before Harry had disappeared as, apart from anything else, he didn't share Dumbledore's proclivities.

It was far more powerful and long lasting than any standard loyalty potion and this draught, with just over fourteen standard doses which he had carefully rationed for maximum effect, lasted an entire year with each application and due to its hybrid nature could not be fought off by the subjects own magic.

It warped their mind in such a way that, though they could still think and reason with almost perfect clarity, they became utterly and completely devoted to the person that gave it to them and no matter the illogical nature of any statements they might utter or requests they might make they were seen as right in all that they did.

Hence our traditional anniversary custom of morning tea every year, he idly thought even as the door to his private office opened to admit one Hermione Granger, I wonder if anyone else would appreciate the delicious twist once the potion ran its course as much as I do or Dumbledore would have.

"My Lord" Hermione said while taking a seat.

The reverence in which she held the man before her knew no bounds and that was clear in her worshiping tone and practically screamed by her body language. He was everything to her, her light, her life and more than that her entire reason for being.

"Have you succeeded?" He asked and, as always, the timbre of his soft voice sent delicious shivers down her spine as well as up from her most private of places even as she almost physically ached to hear it again.

"Yes my Lord" She replied even as he smiled and it felt, to her, as if her entire being was being slowly filled with gentle light as if he was some great sun hitting her after she had spent years in shadow.

He drank his tea while watching her and she, the ever dutiful servant, did the same to hers while unknowingly reinforcing his control over her for the final time.

Though there was not a full dose left the Lord of Scotland was content that the insidious brew that she ingested would last long enough to suit his purposes.

"Explain" he commanded and she knew, deep in her bones, that she could never refuse anything he asked.

"We have finally managed to dig a tunnel deep enough and long enough to reach where the wards are weakest. Whoever designed this runic array was a genius though as the hole that we have made keeps trying to repair itself and does so far quicker than we could ever have imagined. They did however overlook one thing on the other side of the barrier and it is something a small team could take advantage of".

"How small?" He asked.

"Five people at the most could go before the ward repairs itself and snap back into place. It is exhausting for us to continually repunch the hole and I doubt we could do it more than one more time before the wards adapted to this avenue of attack. Like I said the traitor that designed this was a genius and I wouldn't risk any more than five even with the speed of apparition on our side".

"Explain your plan and what they missed in detail" he commanded softly though, by her reaction, he knew that she took it as an almost holy requirement.

As she did the man's smile, which she was unwittingly forced to adore, which grew wider and fuller until it was almost as if he had to hold himself back from laughing in delight. He did, of course, give her his permission to lead the team when they left the next day.

She was, after all, his most devoted.

"You do know" he began, after she had finished and was sitting calmly for either dismissal or his next orders, and with a familiar (to her) look in his eyes "that my wife, the Lady Daphne, is away tonight?"

Desire flooded her at the insinuation in the voice of the man that she thought everything of and, to her mind, the fact that he was married to the former Daphne Greengrass meant nothing so long as she could please her beloved lord.

The Lord of Scotland idly wondered if he should transform and take her that way but decided against it as today was not a tuesday.

He then took her hand, even as she began to tremble in pleasure simply at the idea of what awaited, and led her to his bedroom that was just off of his main office.

Dumbledore may not have approved of using his final elixir on Hermione but, with the man taken and presumably swiftly killed by Death Eaters, there was no one left to spoil his little bouts of fun.

Besides, thought the Lord of Scotland as he tore her shirt and skirt from her body harshly (she knew not to wear underwear) and roughly even brutally impaled himself in her arse, though Dumbledore had managed to tame the wolf and change it into my animagus form sometimes it is good to indulge that side of me even if I chose not to transform today.

As he animalistically and viciously pushed himself in and out of her warm tightness, to her cries of eager and pain filled pleasure, Remus Lupin smiled coldly.

He was the Lord of Scotland and the rightful ruler of all true magicals that still lived in this country. Even as he looked down upon the enrapture face of Hermione he couldn't find even the barest hint of pity for her.

Many were taken in by the finely crafted facade of Remus Lupin but he was different from his mentor who had guided him for so long before he had died. Where Dumbledore had focused on intelligence more than any other aspect he personally thought that it was nothing without the proper application of true cunning.

That was why he had no pity for the woman writhing beneath him. It was, after all, survival of the fittest and she had been found lacking.

Soon, he thought hammering his body into hers, I will take my rightful place.

Beneath him Hermione began her first squeal of pained orgasm (one of many to come) as he took what he wanted from her just as he always had.

-LAFA-

Harry was running to the _Patience_ which was already being loaded with forty HP-60's along with Knights Silvereyes and Dalon (the former padawans of Luna were staying behind to help teach the new generation in their absence) as well as Luna herself.

The _Silver Flame_ was not chosen to go as, aside from anything else, terrifying the population of the Earth as it entered the atmosphere or at least the United Kingdom was not really the point.

The reason for this hustle and bustle of activity was, simply put, that both Augusta Longbottom and Queen Elizabeth II were dead. Somehow the magical rebels had managed to slip past the wards protecting them and kill them both.

Worse than that as Augusta had been on a holocall with Neville at the time not only had he seen her death, quite suddenly and painfully at that, but he had also seen who was leading the team that had killed his beloved grandmother.

The face, contorted with hatred, of their former friend Hermione Granger had nearly broken Nevile as he struggled to reconcile the creature that she had become with the kind girl who had so often helped a shy young boy so long ago.

Needless to say that image of that twisted face was seared into both Harry's and Neville's memories for years to come.

Neville himself was, despite Harry's protests, also going back to Earth though in a sister ship of the _Patience_ called the _Orion_. He would not (no matter what he thought as Harry had taken precautions) be facing Hermione in battle as he was too volatile and too emotional to fight her effectively and Harry didn't want another friend dead.

In the _Orion_ travelling with Neville would be twenty goblin warriors and engineers whose main task would be taking down the Hogwarts impressive wards. They and their equipment made Neville's ship seem to almost burst at the seams even though it was less full of people (if you included the droids) than Harry's own

Both ships had cloaking crystals installed and powered as well as, in hidden chambers, a set of blood bags for both Harry and Luna as neither wished to attempt to connect with the ones in Commonwealth space as the sheer distance alone could cause any number of problems with the delicate system connecting them to each person.

The Commonwealth was also not willing to permanently lose its rulers either.

Unbeknownst to Harry there was also one other thing in the hidden compartment onboard the _Patience_. A state of the art medical and surgical droid called M.E-54 was tucked away and powered down awaiting Luna's orders.

They (Luna and Nic) honestly didn't know what was going on with Hermione but, using 54, they intended to get an onsite blood workup and, if possible, a brain scan to help fit the pieces of the puzzle together.

-LAFA-

When they landed Harry was glad. He could have said that it was a good thing to be away from all of the bureaucracy of being a prince (which he could never, try as he might, avoid) as opposed to something that was in some ways similar to his days as a wondering Jedi or that it was good for him to visit Earth one final time, no matter the circumstances, if only for closure.

All of that would have been, in part, true but his major feeling was simply that he was glad the journey was done. Travelling, even at the fastest speeds that his ships could manage, had more and more lead his thoughts back to where he came from and all of the work left that he planned to do.

Plus England was very tense right now as King Charles III was understandably incensed that his mother had been killed so violently and that feeling was only increased by the fact that (due to the magical word still being secret) her murder had been covered up and reported as a tragic car accident.

The new King was even more angry when, upon _ordering_ Harry to deal with it, Prince Harry had agreed to do so but had also pointed out (rather bluntly as he hadn't appreciated the tone of the request no matter the circumstance) that Harry's oath had lapsed.

When Harry had sworn his oath he had not been stupid and, having been burned by governments ruled by a select few powerful families before, had sworn his oath to Elizabeth _Windsor_ not to Queen Elizabeth II or the crown itself.

It was such a small change and, not being overly familiar with the natural loopholes in magical oaths, they had let the change pass unremarked.

Worse for the new King, as he had not yet had his official coronation, he could not demand a new oath as to magic such symbols were important and would not recognize Charles authority over the entirety of his bloodline until he became officially the head of his house.

Which for monarchs meant a official coronation though he could currently renew old ones that were still bound to the Crown as the next in line.

Harry had landed the _Patience_ at Bluestone as it was the nearest place that he both felt was safe enough to leave the ship and near enough to England that travel there was relatively easy. He might have used Longbottom manor but it was both too public and had already been breached once by Hermione's forces.

As soon as Harry was sure that his team was assembled and fully equipped he wasted no time in making a speech or otherwise checking his teams as they all knew their assignments and were all well rested from their journey.

They swiftly took portkeys made by their own engineers and landed by the squat grey stone building that made up the Royal School for Magic.

He couldn't help but notice that, at least in the look of it, it paled to Hogwarts as it was not so much a great castle as what could only be described a massive long grey slug that completely suffocated the ground on which the old Ministry of Magic had once stood.

There they were met by over fifty trained Royal Wizards and thirty more goblins all armed for battle. To Harry only the goblins were sensibly armed and in full kit as the wizards, by and large, were armed solely with their wands.

Even his HP-60's had been equipped better than that as rather than being armed with their standard blaster rifles they mostly carried light repeaters instead. To use an Earth analogy they had exchanged their rifles for light miniguns which were slightly less accurate but had a prodigious rate of fire.

The Auror's were led by Master Auror Mcmatthew, a young but already heavily balding man at twenty four, with watery blue eyes and traces of mousey brown hair on his head.

The Nation's contingent was led by Cracktooth (so named for an unfortunate incident when he was a young pup and an angry but immature dragon had headbutted him) and both smarty saluted him as he and Luna approached with their own people.

"Do we know what happened?" Harry asked in a no nonsense tone cutting straight to the heart of the matter.

"The Longbottom wards were at peacetime settings and someone managed to use a nasty trick to confuse those wards into believing that they were family members and not to be harmed in any way" stated Cracktooth. He then continued to speak with a grudging note of respect in his voice "it was both skillfully done and planned well in advance".

After a pause when everyone digested this information he moved on to the other attack "At the same time two highly trained assassins managed to break into the Queen's private audience room and managed to kill both her and the head of the Royal Wizards who she was having a meeting with. That the two attackers both died in accomplishing their task is cold comfort at the moment though it does mean, according to our analysis of the ward breach, that the enemy strike team is down to three".

"The King" said Mcmatthew somewhat frostily and clearly trying hard not to put emphasis on the man's title for the moment "wants their heads".

"Of course he does" replied Harry condescendingly "because no reign should start without a good old fashioned and very bloody beheading".

"Harry" said Luna while gently placing a soft hand on his arm "play nice".

"He _is_ the King" stated the Royal Auror frostily as he, like all those of his kind that currently served the Crown, was fiercely devoted to House Windsor (though whether it was natural or magically enforced was really anyone's guess).

"Of a pre-hyperspace backwater island. He is not even the King of the planet for fuck sake and the British Commonwealth is a shadow of their Empire's former power". Macmathew's look turned murderous as Harry continued "But I take your point. It was, after all, his mother that was killed and allowances must be made".

"So" said Cracktooth who was rightly eager to move this conversation along and away from such dangerous waters "how are we going to do this?"

"Neville" stated Harry as he unconsciously slipped back into the familiar role of commander "will guide the largest team to take Hogwarts and I will be with them".

"Shouldn't you lead them?" Cracktooth asked.

"In combat I tend to work better as a skirmisher or in a very small group rather than as part of a large and, quite frankly, slow military unit. We must play to our strengths after all".

As he said this he shot Luna a small but warm smile and Cracktooth nodded as, to him, it made fine military sense.

"Luna will" continued Harry "take half of the HP's and attack the strike teams staging point, wherever that may be,.as I assume that they didn't just repeatedly cross the wards back and forth did they?"

"No. if they had we would have noticed" stated Mcmatthew with the confidence of the man that was assigned the duty of organising and protecting the soldiers that guarded the English side of the wards.

"You were supposed to notice during the first attempt" snarled Neville angrily. "If you had done your job properly in the first place, you pompous prick, my grandmother would still be alive".

"Easy Nev" said Harry soothingly "now is not the the time".

"It was your _Prince's_ fault as it was his ward work that failed" spat Mcmatthew's clearly not interested in mending any broken bridges preferring instead to burn them entirely. "Do not blame me for his failures".

"Say whatever you want" stated Neville coldly "but if any ward work was foolproof then they wouldn't need guarding. Even the Ancient Egyptians didn't rely solely on warding in their great tombs".

Inwardly Neville promised himself that, if the man did start anything, then the idiot would die for both his attempt and the inept command of the guard units that allowed this to happen. By the thousand yard stare that the man gave him in return he was more than willing to start something but, more than that, was eager to put this 'Grandmagi' in his place.

Harry took all of this in with a single glance but said nothing.

During his many conversations with the New King, both before and after he ascended to take the title (as well as with the late Augusta Longbottom), he was aware of the growing arrogance of the 'Royal Aurors' as well as the derision and sometimes outright contempt that Harry and his people were beginning to be held in.

Their arrogance, from what he could tell, was only a pale shadow of their King's own and it had begun well before he had taken the Crown.

It also appeared that, in the years that they had been gone, Harry's contributions had either been lost or marginalised even as the new breed of English wizards had become complacent in their duties thinking that both the threat from the rebel wizards had gone and that they could do anything that Harry's wizards could do and, more than that, do it better.

"How" sneered the clearly hostile man "do you plan to get past the powerful wards of Hogwarts?"

"See those backpacks that my Goblins brought?" Harry asked rhetorically "They are not just for show".

No matter how much the abusive man pressed Harry would say no more about it.

-LAFA-

Less than eight hours later they had split up with Harry and Neville leading the majority of his forces, the fifty Royal Wizards and thirty goblins of the Nation to the edges of the (now greatly expanded) Hogwarts wards.

The ward work stretched before them like a great angry wall of glittering bees that shifted and moved slowly and continuously making a pale wall of yellow light into the sky. The hairs of every person nearby raised like that of a scared cat and that told all present that they were at full war settings.

They almost seemed incredibly angry at the mere presence of the invading group and would surely kill anyone that tried to cross them.

The Nation's goblins, with the assistance of the Royal Wizards, were starting to bury large wardstones along the perimeter of the Hogwarts wardline. They were not happy about it however and it appeared (whether due to the arrogance the wizards displayed or as a holdover from the days of the Ministry of Magic) that they would not actually work together as the groups split along racial lines.

He also noticed some of the higher ranking humans watching the HP-60's assemble with a possessive gleam to their eyes. Being suspicious of anyone with such a gleam he, being very careful, extended the lightest probe of Force power that he could manage (it was not very light despite his caution as he had honed his power for battle so where Luna could be gentle and almost scalpel like he was more akin to a hammer) but it was enough.

Then he found Mcmatthew's mind and was very thankful that he found only the most basic and seemingly natural shielding that he managed to bypass undetected.

What he saw there should have surprised him but, given everything that he had seen, didn't even come close to shocking him.

It appeared that the new King was not as happy with the standing arrangement between his and Harry's people as his mother had been.

He intended, through his agent who's mind Harry was in, to 'confiscate' any and all droids on Earth as well as any technology that they could manage that would be of use and back engineer it for use in a new British Empire.

The plans for any person that they manage to capture, Harry included, after they had pumped them for information were decidedly less nice. Mcmatthew's was looking forward to dealing with Neville, preferably bound and helpless, personally.

Death of course would be far too good for Harry and he was to be forced to swear a new oath of fealty (among others) and then work for everything that he had in him until he was either of no more use, the work itself killed him or he was broken beyond measure.

Moving over to Neville he watched as his people constructed rudimentary catapults from the forest that was around them (the majority of the creatures that had once lived there had left or been killed long ago) and slowly, but very casually, pulled him aside.

"The Royal Wizards" he said quietly "be ready".

Such few words but Harry could tell that not only had Neville understood their meaning with ease but, like Harry, was surprised by the Royal Wizards utter stupidity.

It wasn't that Harry's people couldn't defeat them easily in any attack if they were the slightest bit aware of an attack coming (though they could) but rather that the Goblins that came with Harry and those from the Nation changed things.

Though each group was now almost completely separate from the other they still maintained good relations and, while on Earth at any rate, were counted as Goblins that were the same as any other and bound by both the Nation's customs as well as it's laws.

They were also protected by them.

As soon as the wizards attacked Britain would be facing another Goblin rebellion but this one, as those that had left for Spero had ties to _all_ of the clans and internal disputes over accounts and lands meant that most didn't, would involve all of the Nation rather than the more historically common single clan.

Harry didn't fancy the Wizards chances even if, in the very unlikely event, they managed to get the I.C.W. involved on their side. More than likely though the international body would leave them to their fate if only to protect their collective arses.

"The catapults are ready my Lord" said one of the Goblins that came with them. Nine catapults stood in a loose semicircle following the slight curvature of the barrier (and the speed at which they were constructed and their quality was a marvel and a mark of the makers skill) and were ready to fire.

"Good… Bloodstone is it?" At the Goblins nod Harry continued "Ready the first volley if you please".

From his research into artificially (rather than naturally) imbued wild magic into a staff Harry realised that it did not want to be contained and tended to react quite explosively when you tried.

That was where his R&D department came in.

They had been experimenting, with admittedly limited success, to enhance the warheads of the ships missiles on his fighters and had just recently come up with an alchemical glass that was almost literally crawling with microscopic containment runes.

These glass balls, almost twice the size of Harry's head, could store for short periods of time (usually less than a month) a quantity of natural magic and were beyond useful as an explosive.

Added to that they were quite mesmerising as the magic inside constantly shifted gently through the colour spectrum and moved inside like a thick lazy smoke and, ironically enough, powered the very wards that contained it in its globe shaped prison.

The main reason that this advancement hadn't been added to the missiles yet, let alone the torpedoes on the larger cruisers, was simply that they hadn't perfected the technology yet.

If they were made too thin the globes glass cracked at odd moments and exploded as well as doing very odd things to everything around them before they did so most likely due to microfractures that allowed small amounts of magic to leak out and overstrain the runes.

If they were made too thick then much of the potential power was lost and at best the explosion was only as strong as conventional weaponry. At the very worst the globe survived impact and simply bounced off it's target.

Given the fact that it had runes to magically strengthen it to contain the magic in the first place it was a very delicate balancing act between too thin and too thick.

These globes worked very well as catapult shot however as, due to the relatively low tech nature of the delivery systems combined with the comparatively short amount of time in it, any globe that was a shade too thin shouldn't impact the functionality of the catapults all that much.

At Harry's hand signal Dobby (the soon to be named Grandmaster of the Knights of New Atlantis) fired the first catapult with the others following less than half a second later with a distinctive wooden groaning.

The nine balls flew up into the air and, as they sped towards the target, not only did Harry watch them fly but the crews reloaded the catapults for another volley and were ready to send another even before the first hit.

When the first volley struck it was almost like a blast of multi coloured lightning but shaped more like a wave rather than a branch.

Then the light came before the sound, so strong that everyone had to look away for a moment, followed by a thunderclap so loud that it almost seemed to rattle bones that was only strengthened as each of the other eight shots impacted the barrier.

Already, from the very first shots, Harry could see the ward barrier thin and its own internal light dim and so he turned to join the droids preparing for the ground assault knowing that, as soon as the wards were down, the majority of his engineers would join them being more than eager to enter the fray.

As he checked his gear and the droids loaded the weapons that they carried (the HP-60's also had a bayonet like spike that would extend from the underside of their forearms in close combat) even as the catapults continued to fire with loud flashes and echoing booms.

Soon enough he was approached by Dobby, Mcmatthew, Cracktooth and Bloodstone.

"Why" said the Royal Auror "if your weapons are so effective are we even bothering with a ground assault?"

"There are children here" Cracktooth snarled before Harry could answer. To a Goblin family was everything and Harry was surprised that the man hadn't been gutted by either Goblin for simply asking the question.

"They can't have missed the light show and are no doubt preparing a response by now" pointed out Mcmatthew. "It would be much safer just to destroy the castle from a distance" the man continued to argue ignoring, for the moment, the twin looks of utter loathing that the Goblin's were sending him.

"There are children here" Harry repeated Cracktooth's words sounding as cold as a tomb and ending the conversation as quickly as it started.

Soon enough and with a great sound like shattering glass the war wards of Hogwarts (that had stood unbreakable for around a thousand years) were broken beyond repair and the anti apparition and portkey wards that were engraved in the stones that they had placed snapped into existence.

It was likely that, one way or the other, Hogwarts as it had always been would end today and part of the reason (though admittedly a very small part) that something like this hadn't been attempted before was Harry's sentimental reluctance to destroy the first true home he remembered.

His ragtag army soon began to move towards Hogwarts proper, minus ten Goblins to move and reposition the catapults, encountering no resistance.

As soon as they reached the grounds of the school (moving past fifty or so empty greenhouses that had clearly been heavily expanded and enchanted to be turned into makeshift farms and an abandoned village or two) that changed as they found two hundred and fifty or so hard faced wizards and witches in a rough formation and waiting for them.

At the head of the group were both Hagrid and Mcgonagall and, though Harry wasn't looking forward to this confrontation, he was grateful for the fact that most of the teachers that he knew hadn't remained at Hogwarts but rather had joined the Royal School almost as soon as it was set up.

Filius Flitwick had returned to both his roots and the Nation which had, in turn, welcomed him with open arms and was considering moving to the Commonwealth though the excitable teacher wouldn't be rushed in his decision

-LAFA-

Luna, at the same time, was slowly approaching the enemy strike teams newest entry point to the greater world.

Once they knew what to look for it hadn't taken long for them to realise that the old Gringotts building having been left unused as a pointless relic of the past (the Royal Wizards using the King's pounds as 'all proper wizards should') was the most likely place they were attacking from and this had been backed up by Luna's senses.

Though she was worried as she felt emanations of great pain from there in her future though what exactly that meant was, as it so often could be with the Force, unclear.

The old building made both tactical and symbolic sense when someone was looking at it from the strike teams point of view. It was deep, cavernous enough for larger forces in the future and was a remnant and pillar of a past of the old regime that they wished to (in their own twisted way) restore.

The twenty droids that she had taken with her were characteristically silent as they flanked her and she entered what used to be the main floor. The medical droid ME-54 did not knowing that it was in no way designed for combat and instead waited outside ready to be called in.

The first thing that she noticed was that the tellers workstations had been converted into makeshift beds and then that all three of their targets, Hermione included, were sitting around a table in the centre of the room.

They were also in the middle of a very heated card game.

The reason that they were caught unprepared was very simply that, if they had put any wards up, they would risk detection by the Royal Wizards and as such while the place was secure they didn't have any placed.

For now though they were relying on the secrecy that no wards provided because, whether they admitted it or not, a crowned King could rip almost any ward down in his domain including the Fidelius charm and they clearly didn't know that the King of England was currently not crowned.

Following King Charles III _request_ all of the droids weapons had been switched to stun the enemy as he didn't just want them dead he wanted to make examples of them to crush any future rebellion before it started.

They managed to fire before almost anyone could react and the two male wizards dropped unconscious to the floor.

Hermione on the other hand popped away though, as she clearly had no intention of fleeing, not very far.

Given the highly defensible nature of the bank (Goblins were, after all, always prepared for war) and with the element of surprise on their side Luna had elected not to raise apparition wards and alert the enemy to their presence or give them any time to prepare.

A warning from the Force screamed at her and she dove into a roll naturally responding to it even before her mind began to fully register what was happening even as the spell that went past where she was standing took a large chunk of the marble wall behind where her head would have been.

Even as she smoothly rose to her feet with her purple lightsaber flaring to life she saw a fire whip slash sink deeply into the droids destroying the closest by bisecting them into glowing pieces and damaging the others nearby.

As the damaged ones, runes glowing, began to repair themselves Luna slipped easily into Ataru and used the environment around her to her full advantage. This was more than needed as it was this that saved her from an early death in the those first few hectic moments.

She then, bouncing off the walls like a pool ball, lined herself up for a classic hawk bat swoop batting aside spells as she did. The maneuver was one that Hermione had to scramble to avoid and, soon enough, she was almost constantly on the defensive.

Then Hermione changed tack, clearly believing that a good defence was a furious offense, firing spell after spell in such rapid succession that her wand almost seemed a continuous blur of movement and, if she survived, she would probably have to cut the almost red hot wand from her flesh.

Soon enough her spell choices got darker and darker culminating in a vicious and corrupted cutting curse that was aimed at Luna's face that was deflected, if barely, back at her and cut her arm off at the elbow.

Even while she screeched in rage Hermione scrambled for her missing arm as she wanted the wand that the hand held.

With a almost delicate sweep of her blade Luna both cauterized Hermione's elbow and, moving in a beautiful figure eight motion with her blade took off her other arm as well. She ignored the smell of burning flesh and focused completely on her former friend.

"Arrrgghhh!" Hermione screamed "You traitorous bitch!"

"I suppose" began Luna calmly and almost philosophically "that treachery is a matter of perspective".

Then she half turned her head and called out in a louder voice "Fifty Four I need you"

"Princess" stated M.E-54 in its emotionless tone as it entered " you called for me?"

"Princess!?" Hermione screeched with a pained gasp and full of hatred "You really are _looney_ if you have that fucking thing calling you a princess".

"Luna Potter is one of the leaders of the Silver Commonwealth and, by virtue of her marriage, is indeed a princess".

"Potter! Bastard! Traitor! Whore!" Screamed Hermione seemingly stuck in a hateful and vulgar loop of almost all consuming rage.

"Fifty Four" continued Luna ignoring Hermione's outburst as if she had never spoken while inwardly the pieces were starting to fit together into a disturbing picture in her mind. People under a potions or spells control often had magnified emotions especially to controversial or otherwise forced (to their own psyche at least) ideas.

It may even have been that the word Harry or Potter had been used as a trigger to bring on a murderous rage to help further the control of her. After all it was much harder to summon your will or even realise that you were being used if anything and everything relating to one of the largest signs of that swamped you in unthinking and all consuming anger.

Still ignoring Hermione as, no matter her emotional state, the downed woman recognised the threat of a lit and humming lightsaber Luna continued her conversation with the droid. "Take a blood sample now please. I want immediate analysis and then, if necessary, move on to an in depth brain scan".

The droid moved to obey and, reacting as programmed to Hermione's dire threats, shot the witch with a short term tranquilizing dart shot from a concealed launcher in it's hand and, though would cause no permanent damage. it would knock her out for a few minutes.

The results when they came not only required a quick but deep brain scan but were hardly surprising to Luna at first. Thankfully that scan was accomplished when M.E-54's chest opened up like butterfly wings and began a non intrusive laser scan.

There were significant amounts of an unidentified substance, that Luna obviously took to be a potion, in Hermione's blood. What was far more worrying to Luna were the results of the brain scan and the implications were so disturbing in fact that she asked for the droid to repeat itself.

"I said" repeated the droid " that it appears the substance that is riddled throughout her system has impacted and damaged all lower brain functions. Somehow, though it escapes my database how, it appears to function for them".

"Can you treat it?" Luna asked. She knew that this was bad as, if it was one of the several hundred potions stored in the droids medical database it would have named it and a suitable treatment could have likely been devised.

As it wasn't that now would only happen if the potion bore striking similarities in it's makeup to some other, more well known, potions but she knew the likelihood of that was extremely low.

"Not without assistance from both Healers and a great deal of equipment" was the succinct reply.

"And if you purge it?" Luna asked for clarity's sake.

"The patient would cease breathing in under a minute" was the emotionless yet chilling reply.

"Can we not take her back to the Commonwealth to treat her?"

"My analysis shows that the substance is breaking down far too quickly for her to make the journey with anything beyond a 0.0004% chance of success. There is also not time for a clone to be produced and it even appears to ignore all standard healing techniques including phoenix tears.".

Luna sighed, weighed down with the hard truth that assaulted her mind, and she knew that not even a blood bag would work at this point. The fact of the matter was that it took more than a minute to get the genetic material required and perform the ritual. That was assuming she somehow had the time to teach Hermione the ritual as well.

If she tried to do that with Hermione still potioned it would be the same as doing it against her will and, like all magic, intent was key in creating one.

Whoever had _programmed_ their friend had made it so that anything she suggested, even everything connected to her or the name Potter, would be dismissed out of hand with a deep and abiding knee jerk anger.

"What do you require in terms of treatment?" M.E-54's bland statement broke her from her thoughts for a moment.

Luna was torn. On one hand she didn't want to see her former friend die but, on the other hand, not only would she die anyway but for as long as it was in her system she would be a slave and eventually die anyway.

Someone had turned her friend into a twisted caricature of herself and the anger at that almost threatened to spill out of her and tear at the foundations of the former bank. She mastered it though, if barely, as that emotion would be of little use at the moment.

"Purge her. Take that vile thing out of her...the tranquilizer too" said Luna tiredly.

Soon enough the detox was complete on the unconscious woman as the droid used a needle in it's left arm to remove tainted blood, where upon it travelled to specially stored cleaning systems in its body only to be sent back clean through a similar needle in its right arm.

The vile concoction was analyzed and stored inside its chest cavity either for further study or to safely remove it depending on its eventual orders. For now though it was effectively neutralized and safe.

Luna silently wept knowing that, if her friend was to die anyway, Hermione deserved to pass on as herself rather than the twisted thing that she had been made to be. Luna couldn't let her die alone though as after everything that she had been through it would have been too cruel in Luna's mind.

It was also the younger woman's penance for not arriving in time, for not understanding more, and simply not being able to do more.

"L-luna?" Hermione asked waking up slightly groggy.

She felt her friends pain and confusion in the Force and knew the instant that Hermione remembered what she had done, what she had been forced to do, as the weight of Hermione's guilt flooded the Force even though she was blameless (or nearly so) by any measure.

"Shhh...it's okay...it's okay. It wasn't you...no one blames you...not now and not ever". Luna's frantic whisperings were trying to convey with everything that she had how true that was and how Luna herself held Hermione blameless.

Though the weight of guilt lessened she could tell that she was not wholly effective and, for a time, Luna dropped to her knees and gathered her friends head in her arms whispering soft soothing phrases while still crying.

"But I _remember it_ … I remember everything. I was in there somewhere trapped and watching my body do horrible things" Hermione said softly and with her voice growing weaker as her body began to fail.

"Who did this to you?" Luna asked quickly hoping that she could personally condemn the person that had done this to what was once a bright and slightly naive girl.

"R-remus. I trusted him" Hermione's voice leaked hurt, naked and raw, and all that Luna could do was slowly rock her friends head and stroke her cheek.

"Why did I trust him…." Hermione half wondered aloud and Luna could have explained about the potions but, she knew, that was only half the problem and they didn't have the time.

"We all did. That's how spies work. It wasn't just you... we all trusted Remus _fucking_ Lupin" she instead answered.

"Luna" Hermione's voice came out strong almost as if she was gathering the very last of herself all in one final push. "Don't...I'm so ashamed…..please….don't tell Har…"

And with that Hermione Granger died in the arms of her friend.

All Luna was left with were the blank eyes of the woman staring unfocused at the ceiling and more regret than she feared that she would ever be able to manage.

Luna had no time to dwell, no time to grieve, however as like a great tidal wave she felt a massive wave of pain, anger, sadness and horror crash over her even as the Force screamed out in warning.

"Chime" she called even as the beautiful bird appeared in a ball of fire "take me to Harry right now".

On hearing her anguished and frightened tone the bird didn't even protest with a single chirp. Instead she simply nodded, landed on Luna's shoulder, and flamed her and her bonded's mate away.

-LAFA-

"Will someone please deal with that FUCKING TOWER!" Harry bellowed into the comlink in his ear even as he watched the tallest tower of Hogwarts launch another massive bolt of lightning into the mass of Royal Aurors and droids on the battlefield and scattering them like bowling pins even as he felt many die in a wave of sudden shock and agony.

Harry himself was ahead of the larger main body of his mismatched army surrounded by eager Goblins who, as it turned out, could run very very fast.

"On it Harry" stated Neville as calmly as if he was discussing the weather, still back with the catapults, and seconds later (and with a satisfying loud boom and spectacular light show) it was no more than slightly glowing rubble and ash having crumpled under the powerful attack.

Thankfully the enemy wizards had made the understandable mistake of thinking that the Royal Wizards should be the first targets.

Though the defenders outnumbered the actual human wizards they were still outnumbered in total and they, like all wizards, thought that other wizards were both the most important unit and the greatest threat.

The only other force that the defenders had going for them were the enchanted suits of armour that had always guarded the castle. Though there were only twenty (as many wizards were needed to direct and control them) they were still formidable in their own right.

The droids were quite easily dispatching some broom riders that the wizards had sent out from the castle learning the hard way that, as a distance weapon, wands were really unsuitable when compared to the light repeaters their enemy carried.

In short the aerial battle was a slaughter.

While the droids were quite easily disposing of any broom rider that came in range (and close enough to fire a shot at Harry and the Goblin skirmishers) the lead forces moved in and, with their runic blades and their shields on one arm, charged in with Harry a few steps ahead.

They began to cut a bloody swath through the ranks of wizards and suits of armour.

With a flame whip in one hand and his lightsaber in the his other Harry quickly dispatched his nearest enemies as both the armour and wizards fell to his blade and whip some screaming and others in eerie silence.

He moved like liquid mercury quickly dispatching one suit of armour with his whip even as he slashed through a charging wizard and spinning on the spot to deflect an errant spell.

The line of men, goblins and armour seethed against each other, both struggling for dominance, even as the last of the broom riders fell from the sky dead. This freed both the droids and the Royal Wizards to begin to flank their enemy.

Sheer numbers alone made this task difficult however and so, deciding to try and even the odds, Harry Force Jumped high and behind his enemies deflecting three spells back into the mass of enemy fighters as he went.

When he did land he cut down four wizards before they could begin to react. Then he moved both his blade and his whip into a rising whirlwind of death and interspersing that with liberal amounts of Force Lightning.

This was particularly effective on the suits of armour who's charms and runes failed under the onslaught and they fell back from the force of it with pieces of them, red hot and smoking,spinning off to strike at their allies exposed flesh.

Harry felt more than saw Dobby decapitate Professor Mcgonagall, the old teacher not even having any time to begin an attempt at defence, and her nearest allies despair as they saw her fall.

He also felt Hagrid's utter and complete fury at her death and the resolution that the half giant would demolish Dobby here and now even before he began to see the distinctive figure began to hack a destructive path towards his former padawan.

Harry knew that he had to act as, though his friend was very skilled in his own right, he was in no way prepared to fight an enraged half giant covered in armour and wielding a razor sharp butterfly axe.

Cutting one wizard vertically through the unfortunate man's torso and using his whip to take the legs of another he used Force Scream to bellow and scatter many wizards, mostly unharmed (except for those closest to him who died with ruptured ear drums and internal blood loss in their skulls from burst blood vessels), from his path.

Casually he flipped his lightsaber around and, plunging down, dispatched the wizard who had lost his legs to the flame whip even as he used the path he created to intercept Hagrid long before even the mans massive steps could carry him to Dobby.

"Hagrid" Harry called loudly. He struggled with making himself heard above the din of battle and the cries of the dying even with both magic and the Force aiding his voice.

Hagrid looked confused for a moment clearly trying to reconcile the familiar voice with the face and frame of one of the enemy commanders who, according to the Lord of Scotland, were traitors to the legitimate government.

"Harry what'cha doin' here?" Hagrid asked before he took in the sight of all the loyal (to him) dead around his former friend and, when his brain caught up with his eyes, his face hardened.

"Killing the rebels who killed my friend Augusta" Harry chose to reply simply.

"We're not the rebels 'arry" protested the almost childlike and innocent Hagrid.

"You are to me" Harry responded his tone tired but resolute.

Hagrid shrugged, as if that fact didn't matter to him, and then suddenly lowered his shoulders and charged at Harry with his axe swinging to to cut Harry in half just as Harry himself had done to one wizard moments ago.

As Hagrid's axe swung sideways Harry sank so deeply into the Force that, for him, time slowed and conventional sight was currently not needed as he _knew_ where the axe was going to be.

Harry lept and, with the sureness granted to his limbs by the Force, used the flat head of the axe to lightly spring up and over Hagrid twisting around as he did so and landed behind the formerly gentle giant.

Using a Force enhanced kick before the man could react he hit the back of the man's knees and Hagrid buckled into a kneeling position before the man could say or do anything else.

With great sadness in his soul he put his lightsaber gently through the man's chest.

Later he would rationalise that he really had no choice as, if he hadn't, Hagrid would have not stopped fighting unless the entire invading force was dead or captured and then he lent in so his next words could be easily heard by Hagrid as Harry's lips were next to his ear.

"I'm sorry" Harry whispered quietly to his friend even as the man began to die. "But Dumbledore and his ilk always had your heart".

Then he was off like a shot as now was not the time to mourn or analyse his feelings.

The defending army was wavering, almost broken, by the loss of their two commanders so Harry entered the school proper and headed towards what used to be the Headmaster's Office realising that the leader of the enemy would not wish to lose such a strong status symbol and was probably commanding from there.

He encountered little resistance aside from a few notable seconds of dirty close quarters fighting with Daphne Greengrass who announced her presence with a trio of emerald green killing curses.

She was quickly on the floor with her neck twisted at an odd angle, clearly dead, for her trouble.

Then he was at the 'Lord of Scotland's' corridor and gathering all of his pain into a volatile ball of magic between two hands which he used to shatter the Gargoyle and, through it, the door further on as well.

-LAFA-

Remus Lupin was the master of Hogwarts in a very literal sense and, from the first moment that Harry entered the castle proper, he had been aware of every step his enemy took.

Albus Dumbledore was a great man in many ways and had built in many contingencies (planning for many different scenarios) and this had given Lupin the power to override any Headmaster (excluding Albus himself) which, in turn, gave him almost unprecedented access to both the wards and the power network that fed them.

This had come in handy more and more over the years especially after the older man had died and it had fallen to him to pursue the 'Greater Good'.

Case in point although bringing down the wards had been a necessary step for Lupin's enemies it did have a bonus for him.

Dumbledore had taught him the value of backup plans and even if direct confrontation was somewhat out of character for him these days it didn't mean that he was incapable or that he wouldn't do everything to stack the odds in his favour.

All of the wizards that had been deemed disruptive or useless to the state had been integrated into the wards, greatly strengthening them, and with them now disabled the wizards had nothing to send that power to.

That was until, using his control to his best advantage, he turned the excess power to the best place he could think of...him. Forty nine magical cores, as well as the excess power of the reservoirs of magic that had historically fed Hogwarts now fed him and as he felt the monumental power feed him he couldn't help but laugh in joy.

Every cell of his being filled with it as his body drank in the magic like a man who hadn't had a sip of water in over a week. His eyes turned into a solid and brilliant white even as he burned his wand with a single thought and it seemed like (to him) that he had become as much magic as man.

Such a petty foci is no longer needed he thought.

He remembered Dumbledore's obsession with the Deathly Hallows and the power that theoretically came with becoming the Master of Death and he remembered well how he himself had coveted that very power.

Now, having magic almost leaking from every pore, he realised how foolish he had been.

What fable could compare to the raw feeling of so much magic and power, he thought, who could envision a greater strength than this?

So it was that when his door was blown inward by a battle ready Harry Potter he was remarkably unconcerned and, with barely a thought, turned the shards of oak that flew at deadly speeds into sand.

He, for the first time in years, beheld the long missing Potter and his glowing sword without a trace of fear and smiled deeply while looking forward to teaching this upstart his place.

He was already daydreaming about how much power Harry would provide when he joined the 'collection' as, if the average wizard with comparatively anemic power levels did this much, he was almost salivating about adding Harry.

"Lupin" spat Harry with disgust and hatred dripping from his tone.

"Nice of you to drop by to see old uncle Moony" said Lupin casually and even his voice echoed from all the extra power that was currently running through his system. "Nice weapon" he added.

"Nice eyes" Harry responded in a calm tone before he abruptly raised his hand and, quite suddenly, lightning spewed crackling madly from his hand clearly hungry for flesh "try this instead".

Only for it to be stopped by a marble block that appeared from nowhere and it seemed that the blue lightning hissed angrily at it furious at being denied its prize. Lupin simply raised his eyebrows in an expression of minor interest at the display.

"Try this instead" said Remus mockingly and as the block of marble disappearing along with Harry's attack another stream of lightning appeared, deep pink this time and magical, only to be blocked by the fierce crackling of Harry's lightsaber even as as the Boy-Who-Lived used all of his connection to the Force to enhance his speed and seemed to literally fly at his enemy.

All to no avail of course.

Even as the impudent brat came towards him Lupin simply twisted his hand and Harry was encased in a pale white (and almost see through) globe of magic that shocked him like a forcefield when he hit it and he hit it _hard_.

Then with a shooing gesture more appropriate to waving away an annoying fly and Harry, still encased, went flying into the corridor at very high speed.

"SHIIIIITTTTTTTT" Harry yelled as he was torn away from the office with Lupin following at a steady and unhurried pace.

Harry meanwhile was trying to break the magic holding him with all of his might but, to him, it felt like he was trying to move the tide with a toy spade. The only plus, if you could call it that, was that he still held his lightsaber even if he couldn't currently do anything with it.

Lupin, like some great and famous conductor in a orchestra, directed the floating Harry with short sharp movements of his hands to the seventh floor's Room of Requirement.

A small part of Harry's mind wondered where all the students were but the answer came to him within a second. They were all most likely hidden in their dorm rooms, locked away by magic, until the fighting was over.

They would be safe anyway as Dobby and the HP-60's had orders to extract and protect the students, forcibly if need be, from Hogwarts and they were probably doing it even now. Magical paintings were not really a defence against the technology that Harry's people employed and that was a fact that they would soon learn if they weren't already.

The tapestry that guarded the entrance shimmered but, instead of forming a door, it turned into an open archway at Lupin's unspoken command even as Harry was released from his prison in much the same fashion.

Unlike the door though his change in circumstance was not gentle but rather heralded by being thrown violently into the room and, because of the sheer force of it, he lost his lightsaber at the beginning of the archway hearing a dull clink as it struck the newly formed stone.

Lupin followed him in and,seemingly finding walking far too boring for his tastes, floated an inch or so off the ground gliding through the air.

"Welcome" stated Lupin "to your new home. I would have kept you imprisoned until I could convert you but we wouldn't want the different and strange magics you use interacting badly with those currently in place now would we?"

"Bite me" stated Harry.

"How quaint. No need to worry Harry" Lupin continued sarcastically " let _uncle Moony_ take care of you...you won't be alone".

Lupin waved his hand around the Room of Requirement. "Did you ever realise what this room was? It's not just a silly little room you know... welcome to the oldest functioning ritual room in existence as well as the Heartstone of Hogwarts...it's soul if you will".

The room that they were both in was in the shape of a grand and arched cathedral with a brightly coloured and slowly moving semi precious stone suspended gently in the air above a runic plinth supported by its own magic.

There was also one of the most grotesque sights that Harry had ever seen.

What he saw were rows upon rows of people in the room suspended in something that looked like amber and all of Harry's senses screamed at the wrongness of it as he looked upon the faces of people caught in a moment of unending agony neither alive nor dead.

They were also beyond saving.

Though Harry could not distinguish individuals at this time (he was quite busy trying to think of a way to stay alive) all of the remaining Weasley's sans Percy and including the still potion addled Ron and Ginny were among those trapped.

Lupin had found a use for them after all despite their obviously strong desires.

"I'm not staying here" Harry said calling forth a fire whip to his hand only to have a burst of red hot magic (in the form of a vicious medical spell put to an inventive use) remove his hand from his wrist even as it also cauterized the wound.

"Did you really think" said Lupin who obviously didn't understand a distraction when he saw one "that you could stand up to the power of Hogwarts..to your true master the Lord of…"

With a sudden burst of Force power Harry's blue lightsaber flew up and decapitated the man. Lupin's face was permanently frozen in a picture of shock and that, on a purely petty level, made Harry happy….sort of.

"Yeah" Harry gasped to the corpse as the pain from the loss of his hand as well as a mess of adrenaline ran through his system. "You were more powerful than me, more of a bastard too, but you should really watch the monologuing...it's a killer".

At that moment Luna burst through the archway followed closely by half the droids that had left with her (taken by a thoroughly exhausted Chime one at a time) and, with a muttered spell, created Harry a silver hand like the one that Wormtail used to have.

Many people knew of the spell but very few used it. One of its usual side effects was metal poisoning though Harry and Luna were numbered among the few who could create one without that problem (Voldemort not only didn't care he had been amused that his 'reward' would eventually kill the recipient).

"Report" said Harry. Tearful reunions could wait until later as, at the moment, they were still in a battlefield situation even as he stood and moved over to those trapped people and studied them.

On top of that though Dobby would represent the Knights in the Council as a body they were currently led by Harry as it's most senior member though he didn't often use that to his advantage and the day to day running of the Knights of New Atlantis was generally the purview of the Grandmaster.

That, in turn, meant that Luna was not technically in charge of the battle outside and was therefore both free and almost required to come to Harry's aide.

Luna didn't need Harry to speak to understand how he was feeling at the moment as she had both their marriage bond and the fact that he was almost screaming it into the Force. Chime even appeared in a slower then normal flash of flame to land on Harry's shoulder and tiredly give him some support.

Disgust at what these people had been through radiated from his every pore and she felt deep despair at his inability to help them (far more than she had ever sensed from him).

They both knew that there was no releasing for people 'trapped and tapped' in such a living death and that was one of the many reasons that both the instructions for the rituals as well as the actual rituals themselves were destroyed a long time ago.

Even Harry, who had been schooled in a time centuries before the more oppressive eras, at least in terms of the dissemination of knowledge, had only ever seen vague references to their existence amongst the many and varied dire warnings about using them.

Seeing his pain at the trapped peoples torturous existence Luna could only share in it. She and Harry had killed many and he had even condemned those worst, such as Ron and Ginny, to a lifetime of pain but neither had _ever_ done anything like this.

All of those people's magic, as well as their very souls, were being fed into the ward scheme. If they were left alone they would never die but instead be preserved by the very magic that was feeding on them.

They were also aware and unable to move. They were stuck in eternal torment and agony not for some great crime or unforgivable action but simply because it was more convenient and useful to some that they were.

All of this and the simple fact that there was no way to restore them to their former lives weighed heavily on Harry and Luna could tell that it was something that he would carry for a very long time.

It was at that moment, looking at her beloved, that Luna decided to honour Hermione's last wish both for her and Harry. The truth in this case would simply become a weapon that would only further hurt Harry.

So, she thought, he will never know the truth. The fact that Hermione had been used and abused by many men that she trusted in a multitude of ways would do no good now.

The fact that her friend had been perhaps the greatest casualty of this war would be buried with her and everyone else (including Nic although she was sure the Spymaster would suspect otherwise) would have to believe she died a traitor.

Sometimes the truth was just too painful and she couldn't do that not to Harry or Hermione's parents.

"The day is ours beloved" she said gently "The last of the students have just been evacuated by half of my droids with some of the Goblin's help. Dobby, Neville and the majority of the rest were unavoidably detained by the Royal Aurors. They did take care of it though".

"Mcmathew is alive?" Harry asked.

"Yes...though Neville did happen to remove one of his arms and both of his legs" Luna replied calmly. "Apparently he never learned that it wasn't a good idea to try and stab a well educated and trained man in the back. He also never learned not to piss off Neville".

"Remind me never to piss off Neville" said Harry with some humour in his voice.

Then activated his earpiece (having forgotten about it in the heat of battle) while resisting the urge to shudder as he felt the cold silver fingers of his new hand touch his ear reminding himself that it was _his_ and not Wormtail's.

"My prince?" Asked Neville.

"Nev...you okay there mate?"

"Yeah...bastard thought that sending a Avada Kedavra at my back was the gentlemanly thing to do...I took care of the prick" Neville responded dismissively.

"Obliged Nev… did he attack the Goblins?" Harry asked.

"Oh yes" said Neville with clear relish in his voice.

"The prick is stupid to boot. Do we have any shots for the catapults left?"

"Yes" responded Neville clearly confused at the abrupt change of subject "why?"

"Bring them all up here...we have something that needs to be done".

When Harry and Luna left Hogwarts for the last time less than an hour later, with Chime nestled into Harry exhausted from her labours, only Luna heard him whisper something.

To her it sounded like regret and, though she couldn't make out the words, she saw him looking back beyond the walls of stone towards the people trapped in a state of living death. He couldn't free them to life but only give them peace.

He walked past Neville, who he passed guarding the bound and gagged Mcmatthew and he smiled at the imprisoned man without warmth or pity even as he stopped to talk to him.

"You may be wondering why your surprise attack didn't work. The short answer to that was that it wasn't actually a surprise. My group and the British Crown's relationship had admittedly become strained but we still had a working relationship until the passing of Queen Elizabeth II and then the current king ascended the throne".

Here Harry paused and took a small sip of water that Luna had passed him. "As you know he wanted the rebellious murders brought to justice, the old dirty kind of justice,, and personally I can understand that as the magical world has caused him nothing but grief as well as killing his mother whom he loved. What I cannot condone is the attacks on my people".

Harry gestured with his new silver hand (the ring working as comfortably on the magical construct as it did on his old hand) and the Royal Auror was lifted off the ground and floated gently into the air in a similar way to what Lupin had so recently done to him.

As he did so Neville slapped a timed portkey charmed to stick to the man and it began to count down the moment that it settled on him. As they were doing this Cracktooth approached the group and, while standing beside Harry, had a murderous expression on his face even as he began to speak.

"Take this as official notice _human_. Your King has now started a war with the entirety of the Goblin Nation due to this cowardly attack and so you must take a message to him. Tell him that no quarter will be given, no treaty will be signed and nothing will stop us".

After a moment's pause for the man to digest this news he continued "You are all without honour and we will have you running as well as dying alone and afraid" Cracktooth growled.

Cracktooth looked at the man as if he were filth beneath his boot as his finished his impromptu speech.

"As for the technology you wanted? It was not and never will be yours" said Harry picking up where the Goblin left off even as his forces moved slowly further and further away from the school "Hogwarts however was".

With a snap of his fingers he gave Neville the signal for the makeshift bombs to be activated.

The resulting explosion was massive especially as it started in the Room of Requirement itself vaporising its contents. Those that were once trapped there were released to their final peace before destroying the building so utterly that no single stone was connected to its former brother and spraying all bricks outward haphazardly.

"Enjoy the fruits of your deceitful labour" finished Harry and with that the portkey activated.

"My Lord?" began Cracktooth with hesitation colouring his voice "if we need help?"

"The Silver Commonwealth will have a small detachment of droids,around three hundred, for your use standing by. Any more than that like say goblin weaponry and the permission for _individual citizens_ to fight in your war that can be arranged….for a price".

"What are your terms?" The bluntness comforted Harry and honestly he much preferred it to diplomatic doublespeak.

"Simple" replied Harry "all refugees can continue to leave from the Gringotts branch in France under the understanding that it is a one way trip from now on and you, or someone you trust, manages the process and vets those that wish to leave".

"That's all?" asked Cracktooth very surprised as he had expected more conditions for any help given Harry's bleak mood. "What about when we win?"

"The Commonwealth is done with this planet. Do with it what you will". Harry's voice was as cold and unforgiving as steel.

With that Harry and his group turned and left the Earth without another word, never to return, and leaving Britain fighting a war that they could never win and most of its people would never see coming before it started.

Too many people close to Harry had been harmed or killed on this world for him to have any affection left for it. To him it was like a crooked house of corruption and greed that stank with misery and something else.

To them both it was a world that stank of death.


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28: The Hutts and History

 _A/N: edited for typos with thanks to goku90504  
_

51 BBY

3,602 ATC

Nar Shaddaa

Fucking hell, thought Neville, I'm so tired.

The leader of the Magi had spent the last two weeks running, hiding and running again in this cesspit of a world and even though, thanks to his natural magical ability as well as his blood rune tattoo, he looked like a man in his early twenties he currently felt all of his seventy four years.

He was tired, often wet, ached all over and felt like he had a great big drenched and somehow angry sandbag in him where his mind should be.

After all of this time Harry was still more than just a leader to the man but a dear friend and, after spending so long together, they had formed not only a good working relationship but also managed to deepened their friendship so much that they even occasionally thought alike.

That, he mused, is in a nutshell why I am here.

Like Harry he wanted to take as much of an active role as possible and not be constrained by the bureaucracy of his work as much as was feasible. He also didn't believe in shirking work so every now and again he would assign himself as part of the Magi's contingent on the Ferries for a change of pace.

The Ferries were what they had come to call the ships that took those people that wanted to join the Commonwealth to their new lives from both the Republic, the Outer Rim and Hutt space.

Thanks in no small part to them as well as the occasional ship that came from Earth (though they were dying off) the Commonwealth had just entered the tail end of its first expansion phase. Given that their home had only started with a single solitary system the fact that they were now responsible for over three thousand worlds was both astounding and created a lot of work.

The Knights of the Silver and the Magi Order had grown too.

Given that neither order subscribed to Jedi celibacy or the Sith's penchant for both hoarding power and killing their own what had started with Harry, Luna and a few hundred Magi both of the groups had really blossomed.

There were now over 105,000 Knights spread (with 14,000 that were in some way directly trained by Luna, Harry or their original padawans) over the settled worlds with some of them even being second generation Knights.

For all that was very impressive there were now almost ten times the number of Magi as there were Knights as the latter still hadn't finished the monumental task of going through the list of all those that wanted to be trained and were found to be suitable for the demanding work.

Still this meant that the Ferry teams, though obviously becoming rarer, were now also formed of a team of five with two Magi, two Knights, and a pilot to each group unless more were needed like if it was considered hostile territory.

To his current detriment this journey had not been.

They were obviously wrong about that and he well remembered how the Council initially had been concerned how the Cartel would react to people leaving their space in such large numbers as, in many ways, Hutt space functioned on the ruthless exploitation of its own populous.

By this point however there had been eighteen runs already to Nar Shaddaa let alone other member worlds and they therefore hadn't been expecting trouble especially as the _Freewing_ (a Dynamic class freighter that had been runically expanded) would only be taking just under two hundred people on the long flight back into Commonwealth space.

As Neville thought about this he hid in a dingy corner of the slums while simultaneously pulling his stolen jacket around him and slowly pouring a small amount of his precious and ever depleting vial of phoenix tears (thanks to a scavenged medkit) on a deep wound.

It was a blaster shot that a very lucky Bounty Hunter had managed to tag him with and he realised that they should have been more careful and someone should have seen this coming.

The fact that the entire team that he had been sent with was dead illustrated that point very effectively as did the fact that he was hiding here pretending to be a beggar rather than being treated in a hospital and then sent home.

It had seemed so easy at first and that alone should have been a warning sign as _nothing_ was ever easy with the Hutts even slightly involved. More than that the standard bribes (simply a cost of doing business in their space) were not even negotiated all that much which was more than a little unusual for the money grubbing slugs.

They had managed to arrive a day early because of that and, using the perfect clarity of hindsight, he now realised that it was by design.

Rather than risk exploring such a dangerous and lawless place as Nar Shaddaa they had made the sensible (and as it turned out far too common) decision to stay on their ship. The thought was that they we allowed in but it would serve no purpose to make waves with the volatile Hutts in charge.

There must have been an open bounty on them that had been kept very quiet for Nic's spy network not to pick it up or it was very new as it took time for information to travel after all and the first sign of true problems illustrated how much trouble they were in.

It seemed that hundreds of ships belonging to Bounty Hunters had spewed men and stormed the ship. Although some of the defensive systems had activated fully others required activation manually as they were not automated in a 'safe' harbour for fear of hurting bystanders or, more likely in this planet's case, refugees or beggars.

Before they could fully wake, let alone move, they had been boarded and fell under a swift vicious attack that clearly had no intention on taking prisoners.

The pilot had died before he had even managed to grab a weapon and leave his room. He hadn't even gotten a chance to defend himself and the last thing that he saw, through his own blood, were more and more enemies seeking to kill his friends.

Similarly one of the knights had fallen while summoning his lightsaber to his hand and the look of pain that he had was etched eternally on his dead face.

Neville was, to this day, haunted by the piteous choking sounds the man had made while trying to instinctively close the hole that had been made in the man's throat as he had died.

The two Magi could have left the ship of course but they would never have done so.

Aside from apparition being incredibly risky in the middle of battle at the best of times (without specific training and many years of practice) neither was able to spare the few moments that would have been needed to focus enough to take any of the others with them.

So he, Knight Jessica Orion and Magi Heather Greenglass fought on despite the odds.

They were very well trained, especially in the tight quarters of their own ship, and they had killed many. They cut down enemies like wheat and with a cold calculating clinical precision that should have made their foes pause but, for every single one that they dispatched, it seemed that three more snarling and bloodthirsty Bounty Hunters stepped up to take their place.

Even with the help of an accomplished Knight of the Silver and a Charms Mistress they soon realised that they had no chance of winning the fight as things stood.

By mutual and unspoken consent they had slowly begun to retreat back further towards the cockpit of the ship and the communications array.

They were well prepared for this by the several hundred hours of sparring and training they had taken as Padawan (the Knight trainees) and Initiates (the Magi trainees) as they not only dueled/sparred against their own but each other as well as HP droids often in mixed groups.

Sometimes Neville regretted being both a Herbology and Transfiguration Master as the first would be of no use to him here and the second, unlike charms, was _always_ very power intensive when you used it. For lack of a better term it was sloppy and a great deal of energy was lost in creating the effect and it was especially true in combat which was why only the very powerful attempted to use it regularly in a fight.

"Hold them off!" Knight Orion had called as she ducked into the security room by the cockpit and, almost as soon as she was there, the two Magi could hear her cursing as she failed to bring the security systems online. "There is either too much damage from errant fire or they purposefully wrecked the systems when they came on board" Neville heard the Knight call.

He had then felt more than heard the return of the Knight but, he remembered, that he couldn't have looked back at that point as the small hallway leading to the cockpit as the corridor in front of him was filled with both the enemy that were fighting so hard and an ever increasing amount of the dead and dying.

Then things had gotten even worse as, it seemed, that throughout the entire attack these people had actually wanted to take some of them alive despite their brutal attack only to come to the realisation that they were not worth the trouble.

Neville remembered with an eerie clarity and distant horror that, with his adrenaline spiking and his wand hot in his hand from the excess magic running through it, he had seen the enemy roll a grenade to the feet of his small and beleaguered group.

Then, as if by some miracle, he had felt himself violently thrown back (by the Force he later realised) and away from the blast hitting the back seat of the cockpit chair just before there was a great blast of heat and sound.

As he had groggily moved back to the fray, possibly with a concussion and surrounded by the screams of the dying, he had been greeted by the visual confirmation that Heather had not been so lucky.

Shards of the frag grenade had landed in the poor woman's eyes making not only a bloody mess and blinding her but also, due to their length, killing her even as the explosion tossed her body around like a ragdoll.

Knight Orion wasn't much better as the honorable woman had used almost all of her focus in that split second before the explosion to save Neville. She was littered with shards like a bloody and managed porcupine but was miraculously still alive.

She was bleeding sluggishly from a particularly nasty wound in her throat and stumbled more than a little but still seemed alert.

Though neither had spoken of it, from the moment that she and Neville had met there had been an attraction between the two and Neville remembered having the absurd thought that even here and in that state she looked beautiful as well as the idea that he might never find out if she preferred chicken or fish because he might never get to have dinner with her.

Still the explosion had given them a second, if only that, before the battle began again in earnest with Neville's wand hurling his grief, anger and rage towards his enemies even as Knight Orion did the same with her golden lightsaber.

Their eyes met for a moment. Though it was only for such a short time Neville felt almost as if an eternity passed in that instant and he felt all of her sorrow, her strong sense of duty, her affection for him and her iron resolve.

"Go" she had said softly even as he saw her move carefully back towards the security room and the failsafe that was hidden there even. Neville had felt the hairs rise on his body no doubt a subconscious reaction to the buildup of Force power in Orion.

He then followed her instruction and blindly appariated and found himself gasping for breath being thankful for an instant that he was both alive and somehow hadn't splinched himself.

He had found himself on a fairly distant rooftop looking down upon the landing pad and the ship that he had so recently fought in. From this distance the Bounty Hunters still swarmed around it like so many black ants over crumbs at some horrid feast.

Then, as he expected, he watched the ship explode killing many of the Bounty Hunters outside and all of those in the ship itself. A wave of grief had hit him then as he took a moment to fully embrace the feeling and remember the people that he had just lost.

A wave of grief had wracked him almost physically then as he had picked himself up off the ground. As much as he sometimes hated to admit it they had all sworn themselves to a life of service and they all knew, deep down, that an end like this was always a possibility.

He also knew analytically that they couldn't have allowed any information or proprietary knowledge belonging to the Commonwealth falling into an enemies hands which was, after all, the main reason for the failsafe.

Even when they left droids for the Goblin's on Earth (as they were somewhat allied with them) they had gotten their magically bound word that they would not copy, back engineer or (in the case of those from the Commonwealth that individually chose to fight) disseminate their technology.

To do so even in a small portion of a society that was not ready for it could easily lead to disaster and ruin for those involved. The history of the Republic was littered with sad examples of destroyed civilisations that hadn't heeded _that_ simple lesson.

The people that they had to protect (and by extension the welfare of the entire Commonwealth) had to come first in all things nor would anyone be happy to have the death of so many others on their collective consciousness through such a carelessness or inept mistake.

After he had taken a moment he put aside his grief for now and, with all the speed that he could muster, was off into the darkened recesses of Nar Shaddaa. He would obviously come back later to salvage anything useful that he could (the engineers of the Commonwealth took great pains to make anything useful look like junk and breakdown without either a simple charm or the proper application of the Force being applied) but, in that moment, it was far too busy and would have attracted too much attention.

Eventually he had found an old and half forgotten communications relay and, using some of the last of his nearly depleted magic, almost literally charmed his way inside.

After that it was a fairly simple matter to send out a distress call. The systems inside had been so eroded and antiquated however that all he could send safely was a simple S.O.S. on the Commonwealth's preferred emergency frequency.

If he had tried to do more he had no doubt that, overlooked equipment or not, his position would have been given away and he couldn't risk trying one of the newer and more advanced ones that had superseded it as they were normally heavily guarded.

Like it or not at that moment he was alone, injured, and almost completely exhausted both magically and physically. He would have been easy pickings to his hunters if he had done something so foolish as attempt to access the newer communications systems as matters had stood then.

The only reason that this older one had not been torn down years ago was that each piece of useful technology was (generally speaking) owned by an individual Hutt or their families and therefore unlike other systems that were more unified old technology had a tendency to fall through the cracks of the often sinister Cartel's political system.

Added to that Hutt's liked money and as long as something worked, if barely, they were unlikely to send someone to replace or repair it.

He had known that even using the dilapidated equipment that he had was a risk but at this point in time everything had been. Using the old transmitter he knew that his message was sent but he had no idea how long it would take to go through the greater network on the planet let alone travel back to Commonwealth space.

It was after all a very long journey.

Then he had, after quickly scavenging what he could from the wreckage of his lost ship (using several low powered glamour charms and the cover of night), found the nearest out of the way bolt hole he could and fell into the sleep of the truly exhausted with his magic empty.

Which, he thought snapping back to the present, brings me to now.

Having only the emergency gear that all Magi carried in shrunken belts (as that was all that he could find in his ship though he was still grateful that he had found it as in his rush he failed to put it on) he knew he was in trouble.

Inside the nondescript and shabby looking belt was a shrunken battered looking medical kit, collapsable goblin short sword (disguised as a clunky belt buckle), a disassembled blaster with a grappling hook that was a simplified knock off of Harry's and a charmed sheet of fabric that would double as a survival tent and, thanks to the charms in the weave, a locating beacon .

He also had his wand and his curicass though he had them on him during the fight so he hadn't needed to search for them.

Sadly he had needed to move on from bolt hole to bolt hole as the Bounty Hunters had somehow realised that he had managed to survive.

Glamours didn't help him very much either as these people (though reprehensible) were not stupid and had, after their first encounter, employed D.N.A. scanners to see through them. He hadn't after all had the time to cast the standard spells that were normally used to obscure his D.N.A nor did he have the Force or the training in it to use the Silver Knights method to do so.

It would have looked more than a little odd for a Bounty Hunter to come across a shabby man waving a stick and muttering while they were looking for him after all.

That had been over a week ago and he had been unable to get away without a fight on four separate occasions and given that it seemed like they were tracking him down twice a day he thought that it wasn't too bad of a ratio.

He couldn't even sneak aboard another ship and just leave as someone powerful had managed to close down the skyports (at least temporarily). He also couldn't even disillusion himself as there were far too many people around to use it effectively.

Every single time that he moved they grew better at finding him and he had less time to discover bolt holes to use and he was smart enough to realise that they were doing it systematically to herd him into a trap.

Not that he could do much about it.

At this present moment he was between places though thankfully not fleeing so much as stealing money to get food. The only good thing about a Cartel world was that there were plenty of disreputable characters, such as those that sold death sticks, that he could surreptitiously useda summoning charm to take stacks of credit chips from without feeling guilty.

He did it this way mainly because he needed the majority of his energy to survive combat and hope that he didn't die during the chase, truly get trapped or pass out from exhaustion while awaiting rescue.

Walking down the dark and dingy streets he went looking for a target he headed into the _Sunrise Cantina_ and began to watch the crowd covered by a ratty and second hand robe that he had bought on a previous trip with yet more ill gotten gains.

He watched like a hawk from the bar and with his face obscured for a few drug dealers to rob and then, through them, hopefully some way to fill his empty belly.

Soon enough he found one a rather grimy looking fellow who was honing in on a lost looking woman at the corner of the bar and Neville was just aiming his wand while shaping a spell that would allow him to call the dealer's pouch to him from the man's hip (which hopefully contained a few credit chips) when all hell broke loose.

The main doors to the cantina burst apart in an explosive barrage of blaster fire and from the burning wreckage (that was now looked rather huge hole in the wall rather than a door) stepped a large group of Bounty Hunters.

Great, thought Neville, more Bounty Hunters….Duros this time by the look of it.

Reacting on instinct he dived behind a heavy table with the smell of drink soaked _something_ strong in his nose even as he pulled it down as he went making a shield for himself and landing heavily behind it.

As soon as did land his wand became a blur of motion turning a table to his left into an enraged brown bear and the right into a snarling timber wolf that charged at his foes seeking flesh and bone even as the crowd screamed and almost literally flew in panic in a myriad of directions.

While he knew that they would be swiftly taken down by the blaster fire that his foes were shooting into the crowd (what did _they_ care about civilian casualties after all) he began to get creative.

A well placed shot of his turned a belt of one of the hunters into a boa constrictor that began to squeeze and he conjured several small birds to harass and distract his attackers drawing fire away from the bystanders.

He also, with the ease of long practice, took half a moment to assemble the blaster that had been hidden on his belt though it did help that they were specifically designed to be snapped together from four large pieces.

Then, while his foes were momentarily distracted, he turned several glasses that were left rolling around the bar and hadn't by some miracle been shattered in the commotion into knives and banished them at his closest enemy skewering the distracted sentient before he had a chance to move.

That left at least four of the first wave who had managed to deal with his animals. The boa had simply been shot killing its target as well as the beast. The wolf had been dealt with in a similar fashion having had it's head blown off and the bears victim, knowing he would die from the grievous wounds inflicted, had opted to shove a grenade down it's throat even as he was blown to death.

Worse Neville knew that there were more on the way.

Neville tried to move to bring both his wand and blaster to bear but after a few seconds of running and weaving found himself diving again consumed with trying to make himself a harder target to hit while still keeping at least a reasonable line of fire.

He cursed himself for not practicing more with the blaster as he missed more than he hit with the unfamiliar weapon.

He took a deep breath and firing wildly now that the crowd was clear he waved his wand turning two chairs into four eagles that sped towards the enemy with a cry. Next a large and gaudy light fixture turned into a panther that growled and attacked mauling one Bounty Hunter who screamed in fear.

He even threw six or seven blasting curses into the mix to press his attack but, unfortunately for him, by this point reinforcements had finally come and were streaming in faster than he could effectively counter.

A shield flared to life ( a Fortis shield that acted far more like a bubble of force around him rather than the large slightly curved disk of a Pertego) and his wand became so fast that it burned his hand with the power that was flowing through it even as more targets of his wrath streamed in.

The strain that the now constant blaster fire was taking on his shield was immense and he felt every hit sapping his strength knowing that if something didn't change soon his core would empty and then his protection would either render him unconscious or draw on his very lifeforce to stay active killing him all the quicker.

The surge of adrenaline that he had felt at the beginning of the fight was starting to wear off and he felt his magic begin to sputter under the ever increasing barrage.

The weariness and mind numbing emptiness began to seep into his bones and he knew it was only a matter of time now before he made a mistake or killed himself simply trying to stay alive.

He felt his legs start to turn to water and fell to one knee as even standing was a struggle for him as more and more of his power was taken from him and spun by his will into his protections.

There was another option he knew, thanks to the Elves and their oral history, the scraps of knowledge and spells of long lost Atlantis that he had learned as Grandmagi could help him here. There were a few obvious problems that which, even in his tired state, made the application of such power a herculean task.

The first was simply his own strength. The spells would use every single scrap of power that he had and, if he didn't have enough, like his other choices it would kill him and simply fail to work. Given that they normally used every iota of power from a normal wizard the chances of him pulling it off, even with his above average core, were low at best.

At least that would be instantaneous, he thought with dark humor.

Secondly even if he did survive everyone within the radius of the cantina as well as the businesses either side would die as he could only think of one Word of Power that would help in this situation.

Then there was the side effect of using them. No matter what you did magic required a rough balance and the Words of Power were the ultimate expression of that. He would cause an unnamed (mostly because he couldn't recall the exact price in his current state) problem and maybe even a disaster somewhere else on the planet.

After all if they were easy to use they would have never been forgotten nor would Neville have to steal for food as he simply could have created it. The price for that he clearly remembered as it violated one of the fundamental laws of magic and he never learned the Word as it caused a famine to sweep another part of the world that he was on to provide him a feast (obviously the steep price reflected why you shouldn't break a fundamental law of magic as all he would get was food enough for a day).

In short, he thought, I am going to die here mostly because I'm not ruthless enough to destroy anyone to survive. He mentally shrugged before adding in his mind that there were worse reasons to die….a lot of them.

Then, even as at least eight Duros closed in on him from all sides and his advanced shield began to crack under the strain the fissures in the magic flaring like jagged lightning that cycled around the shield trying to heal, like a blessing from Mother Magic he heard the distinctive sound of a lightsaber flaring to life and several new blasters began firing as Harry led a small team of droids to his rescue.

With the element of surprise and the fact that the first volley hit the Bounty Hunters in the back and with Neville launching the occasional blaster bolt from the front through his one way shield the battle was soon over.

All Neville could then do was to half collapse very gratefully into his friends arms as, despite his current location, all he wanted to do was sleep for at least a week.

"Hey Nev" said Harry with calm understandement "you called?"

"The Hutts...they…" began Neville tiredly.

"Easy mate...lets just get you back to the _Patience_ and get you healed up and then we can talk all about it".

"How did they know Harry?" Even as he asked Harry half walked and half carried him out of the bar before even more Bounty Hunters were attracted to the battle. "What about the people that we were sent to get?"

"The people are dead" began Harry answering the second question first "they died long before you even arrived to pick them up by all of Nic's accounts".

Then he grinned darkly before he continued "The Cartels secure communications network isn't really that secure when compared to ours. They seem to have a external and annoyingly well hidden ally and I can only assume that's how they knew you were coming".

"The Sith?" Neville asked even as they slowly walked down the street.

"Maybe...but I don't think so. The Hutts as agents or pawns are quite unpredictable especially the Ruling Families and, from my own memories, I can tell you Banite Sith love to know the outcome of their plans before they even start".

"So what should we do?"

"Funny you should ask" Harry responded "I need a favour".

-LAFA-

Two days later Neville was mostly healed but not only hadn't the _Patience_ left but a great pleasure ship had entered orbit around the planet.

Officially the Ruling Families were on a tour of their holdings but they were actually there for another reason entirely. The Hutt Ruling Council never did anything so magnanimous (for them) as that without another purpose however.

More often than not these trips to show their 'care' were actually more about revelling in their supreme power and a decedent need to enjoy the pleasures of the flesh as well as everything that went along with it.

Zambel the Elder was very old for his kind at over nine hundred years and as such was truly deserving of his title as leader of the great and powerful Ruling Council of the Hutts. This was not just because of his age but also because of the hedonistic cunning that he had shown in not only rising to his position but also managing to keep it for the greater part of his life.

Zambel was excited to know that justice would be done and it was a pleasant bonus that he also got to look at beautiful dancing slaves and drink his favourite alcohol as well as keep an eye on those that might take his position one day.

Although the growing cancer that was the Commonwealth had paid the appropriate bribes to enter Hutt space they had found out that they were taking the Cartel's property away without paying for them.

At first that was not so much of a problem as they simply increased the price of the bribes to enter their space and, admitted or not, every society had a portion of their population that was deemed worthless so they had turned a collective blind eye

The numbers however had become intolerable as the amount of people leaving had begun to severely damage the economy and by extension the Hutts comfort levels to an insufferable degree.

It galled him that the Commonwealth had been so successful at taking their property. The ungrateful slaves simply didn't know all that the Hutts did for them, he thought, so perhaps it was time to tighten restrictions and let them know what life will be like without my generosity.

In all fairness they had not even noticed the impact right away as the Hutts were not cooperative by nature and even, as individuals, took advantage of each territories temporary labour shortage to increase their own power over their fellows.

As befitted a being of his stature (in his mind at least) the immense albino Hutt was not only overly obese even for one of his kind but had both one Twi'lek attendant and three dancers to amuse himself as well as six bodyguards.

All of them were an even mixture of the many races that lived in the Cartel's space and equipped with the most destructive weapons that money could buy. They were also completely amoral cold hearted killers but that was to be expected.

Though the Hutts were by nature both genders each one ended up showing a preference for one or the other after a time and all of the other Council members, both male and female, had the same amount of bodyguards as he did and realistically this was to prevent their own murder at the hands of another.

There were revells planned aplenty and all but one member of the Council (Chejel Loc) were actually here in the flesh which was a feat in itself as they hadn't met like this in close to a century.

When it came to 'dispensing justice' she hadn't wanted to miss it and would be appearing by hologram to watch the show even if she wasn't actually there physically.

Thinking of the judgement to come brought a smile to his bulbous face and he licked his lips slowly in anticipation of seeing an enemy being launched into the void of space to the sound of thunderous applause.

The Bounty Hunters had finally captured their intended target and had done so with it alive and _that_ group of Gand Findsman had done their job very well and had already been paid very well for their efforts.

As this was (supposedly) a secret part of the meeting between the Hutt Ruling Council they all had to do without the rest of their usual sycophants, hangers on or creature comforts.

The few waiters serving copious amounts of food and dancing girls didn't count of course as they were Hutts after all and doing without them would be like a human having his skin turn purple spontaneously.

Besides the slaves would be killed at the end of the meeting anyway as they would have served their purpose.

At length the other members of this ruling elite were all brought in to sit with him, with a great deal of ceremony, to lounge attended as he was on a raised dais looking down on anyone else that entered as they believed was their right and even the missing member was up there in a flare of blue holographic light.

Still Zambel was uneasy. His disquiet had little to do with the prisoner that was to be brought before them and far more to do with the other Hutts in the spacious room.

As much as he was eager for this meeting he was also wary of it. The politics of the Hutt Ruling Council were cutthroat, often literally, and given that they were a very long lived race (as well as being universally arrogant) to gain power and prestige often required more than a little sprinkling of murder.

Not that such initiative was in any way discouraged. All Hutts owed a good portion of their power to such methods along with amassing wealth, bribery and of course all round good old fashioned backstabbing.

The unwritten rule of Hutt justice was not do no wrong but rather do not be caught. If, for example, Hutt A arranged for Hutt B to be killed in an explosion then they were quietly applauded even if every other Hutt knew that they had done it.

If on the other hand they were exposed by an evidence trail or by survivors that they left then they were swiftly either forced to serve those that exposed them or killed outright and their clan plummeted into disgrace.

All in all it meant that any meeting between even supposedly allied Hutts was tense to say the least and the stakes never got higher than the Ruling Council.

"Bring in the prisoner" called Zambel.

Two mercenaries armed with disruptors and stationed at the entrance as guards moved to one side opening the double doors as they did so.

The figure that was escorted in was bound with chains on both his hands as well as his feet and had obviously been beaten. The figure of Neville Longbottom should have been a sad one and even pathetic as he was escorted in by a guard on either side.

Some might think that shackling both his arms and legs so he could barely walk at a shuffle was overkill but given the three trigger happy chaperones that were just behind him (for a grand total of five) as well as the amount of death and damage he had caused before his capture the Hutts clearly did not.

As Neville approached the highest body of the Hutt Cartel his face showed no fear which irritated the immense beings that were waiting to judge him.

As they watched him draw slowly closer they were perturbed by the fact that his body language did scream defiance despite being chained (which they would have both understood and enjoyed breaking him of) but rather as if they were completely unimportant.

To their mounting rage the human was actually looking around around as if he had all the time in the world to see everything that they had to offer and was not in fact in peril of his life.

He seemed to have the air of man that was slowly savouring a beautiful spring day and one of the guards beside him, who had the backpack that he was captured with held loosely in one hand, looked absurdly more like an attendant than a jailer.

Needless to say they were all extremely irritated and when he had finally stopped walking forward and could easily be heard and spoken to by the Hutts before him the dancers stopped as the quietly retreated to one corner of the room.

The furthest Hutt to left, a female named Isub, began by voicing their collective displeasure through her translator and beginning the proceedings.

"You are here" she began acidicly with her attendant/translator mimicking her tone perfectly "to answer for…"

"Nothing" interrupted Neville with cold steel in his voice and showing that he understood their language even if he could not speak it. "Nothing except allowing those of your people who want it a better life away from you".

Neville's voice, pitched to carry, was clear and powerful. It reached every corner of the room effortlessly and was highly offensive to the Hutts before him.

Unbeknownst to them his slow walk and nonchalant attitude hadn't been _just_ to piss them off as he had been taking note of the positions of everyone (and every weapon) in the room.

Neville's finger almost imperceptibly twitched and inside the bag one of four small pieces of metal, all hidden cunningly inside parts of the lining, broke free and began to move towards the others that were also revealing themselves hidden by the bulky backpack.

They twisted together under his will as he seemingly stared defiantly at the Ruling Council's faces until they connected and locked in place forming one single piece.

"You take our slaves" began Zambel after a moment to collect himself "and you hurt our profits".

The ancient Hutt paused for a moment before his face morphed to one of both confusion and an intense hawk like study of his prey. "You are not afraid of our judgement?"

Though technically asked as a question from the way he spoke it was clearly more a statement of fact.

"Far from it" replied Neville even as his face and body began to ripple like the after effect of a stone hitting water even as his jaw tightened clearly fighting great pain.

"I think" he continued with a voice that was deeper and greatly changed along with everything else "that you should be afraid of mine instead".

Instead of looking at a captured and beaten Neville Longbottom as they expected they were now face with a cold eyed and hard faced Harry Potter.

"Kill him!" Isub screamed even as Harry's chains melted into warm water to splash at his feet and the ring that he wore (that they all had thought was ornamentation) glowed briefly.

The three men behind him were blasted off their feet and thrown far back from him even as their weapons clattered to the ground ripped from their owners grasp.

A small green shoto lightsaber burst from the backpack at the same time activating as it did so and it easily bisected the guard holding the backpack as it did so.

The guards behind him (including those thrown to the floor as they had backup weapons) fired blaster bolts at him and, using the Force, he deftly used the remaining guard on his other side to 'catch' half the shots even as he began to deflect the rest at their owners who soon fell bleeding or dead to the floor.

Note to self, thought Harry, the small shoto that Nic designed for undercover Knights (housing a synthetic crystal) works quite well even if I would have preferred my own blade.

Deciding to impress on the Hutts the monumental nature of their mistake in attacking the Commonwealth he not only systematically and brutally cut down his enemies he also used magic to reinforce the nature of their folly.

Five of those that were attacking him had their own blasters turned into wolves that fell upon their former owners straight away and began to rip into them savagely even as the other guards were dealing with their own problems.

One fell to a Force Scream with his brain liquified into soup before the man hit the ground even as more fell to his lightsaber or lightning. One even turned, midstep with his weapon brought to bear, into stone with a casual wave of Harry's hand.

The Hutts were horrified by what they saw as far as they knew what was happening was beyond what a Jedi should be able to do.

There had been some strange whispers coming from Commonwealth space but they had not believed them. There were always rumors and strange stories that came from all over space and, they had thought, a Jedi (even a strange one) was a known quality.

Then Harry turned another to stone but this time the spell was obviously designed to be slow. The man's face was etched in permanent terror and he bagan screaming like a wounded and crazed animal as he watched his body turn slowly to stone inch by inch.

Those screams of panic would remain seared in the Hutts collective consciousness to the day that the last of them died. Though it shouldn't have been possible the man's voice, though understandably growing more hoarse, didn't stop as the stone reached his heart and his final look was of fear as he tried to more his neck in a vain attempt to stop the stone from killing him.

Outside of the room the Hutts heard blaster fire as there were clearly more surprises than those simply coming from Harry. It was also clear that he had not come alone and the great and powerful Hutt Ruling Council were not only caught flat footed but were beyond frightened.

"Don't worry about the others on this ship...as if you ever would…" said Harry almost conversationally even as he easily decapitated the last guard. "Now let's discuss your killing and attacking _my_ people as well as who put you up to it".

"Such impu-" began Isub indignantly only to stop abruptly.

Then again a flying lightsaber going through an eye tended to stop most arguments and before any of the other Hutts could move Harry was among them.

One died with a dry crack as their neck was broken from a Force Choke, one from lightning and another found its lungs inexplicably being filled with water.

Zambel even noted, despite his own fear, that the distant blue form of Chejel Loc was being riddled with blaster bolts and he found himself absently wondering when that attack had even started. In his defence there had been a lot going on here and it was more than likely that her screams of panic had melded into the other screams of the dying.

Soon enough though the only people left alive in the room were Zambel himself, his translator and the Silver Prince. All of their guards, even everyone else on the ship it would seem, was dead and the silence of that was deafening to Zambel.

Though, in Harry's defence, he didn't kill the dancers or the waiters the guards had done that in some of their many attempts to kill him.

"Now" said Harry pleasantly while gesturing and settling into a comfortable chair that used to be a dead body. "Let's talk a new deal….one that we can all live with and will stop any more…unpleasantness..."

"You slaughter us and now you want to discuss a business deal?" Zambel gasped disbelievingly.

"You could look on it as a slaughter" conceded Harry "or you could look at it as an abject lesson and an opportunity. As I understand it Hutt politics involves a lot of stabbing, poisoning and general treachery and, as it so happens, there are now four openings on the Council. More than that... if you move fast enough not only can you appropriate the majority of the former members personal wealth and assets and, if you use your cunning mind, you can decide who joins the Council and have at least some of them in your debt".

Harry allowed Zambel a moment to think of the possibilities and was amused by the look of naked greed and avarice that stole across the Hutt's face as the slug realised he was unlikely to be killed. "Added to that you would be famous throughout the Cartel as the Hutt who negotiated with the Commonwealth that has been hurting your profit margin so much despite your own grievous losses".

"Speak" spat Zambel and Harry smiled as if the Hutt had given him a great compliment rather than barely resisting the urge to tell him to jump out of the nearest airlock.

"One hundred credits a head" Harry stated simply.

"You would bankrupt us!" stated Zambel before countering "fifty thousand credits per head or merchandise of the same value to be decided by us" to which Harry snorted and Zambel felt that he had to defend his demand. "They are prime merchandise after all".

"They are malnourished organic beings not brand new speeders" Harry rebutted "and the state that your kind leaves them in aside from that means that they are far outside their prime as well".

"Twenty five thousand then with a discount of half on the damaged ones" Zambel said with a negligent air as if he was doing Harry a great favour.

"One thousand a head is more than fair" Harry said and just like that the almost jovial tone of the conversation ended as Harry clearly would not bend any further. Given the damage that Harry had so recently done Zambel had no desire to push him any further.

It did help that a thousand Credits a head did add up to a fair amount of money.

"Fine a thousand credits or the appropriate amount of goods that the Cartel wishes to cover the cost...plus the usual amount of bribes".

"Agreed...but the exact nature of the goods will be decided on by _both_ sides" said Harry having no desire to initiate a war with the Hutts nor (if he won) to administer two large tracts of space so far apart "though if they are impeded in any way…"

"You won't pay as much" interrupted Zambel.

"No" Harry said smiling coldly "I'll start killing Hutts".

Zambel sighed. Sometimes it was so very annoying for him to deal with humans, especially the ones in power, as they were often so tediously direct. It was also (to his mind) crude and lacked the finesse and cruelty that any self respecting Hutt would have done in the same situation. Very few humans understood the art that was cruelty to his mind.

"Fine" said Zambel even as Harry stood up brushing his clothes free of nonexistent dust and nodding at the ancient Hutt.

"Oh...and one more thing...who exactly encouraged you to meddle in my business?" Harry asked.

"I _was_ hoping that you forgot about that little detail" stated Zambel to which Harry raised an eyebrow. He had done his research (or at least Nic forwarded his) on the way to helping Neville get home.

"I'm sure you were" Harry said "now who?"

"I only know what she called herself...the Lady...the Dark Lady of Shadows" Zambel replied at length.

"Could you be more vague?"

"We never knew her as anything else" said Zambel "only that she helped us with money and promised troops if you ever arrived in force".

"Well that worked out well for you didn't it?" Harry asked rhetorically "Fine. Why did she target me?"

"Not you. She was after someone else though I have no idea why".

"Who?" Harry pressed.

"Princess Luna Potter" said Zambel and Harry felt a shiver go down his spine.

Needless to say Harry was quickly moving as fast as his legs could carry him and without a backwards glance and already trying to raise Luna on his personal comm having slaved it to the much more powerful array on the ship that had transported the group of droids that cleared the ship.

When he was finally able to raise someone it was not Luna as he found that he was already far too late.

-LAFA-

"What the hell do you mean she has been taken?" Harry asked angrily aboard his current ship and staring into the face of the apologetic face of the Commonwealth's Spymaster.

Even as he said it Chime flamed in and landed on his shoulder and, before he could say anything in anger that he might later regret, she began singing a soft beautiful melody. Harry felt the effects straight away and found himself stroking the bird's feathers while taking comfort from the song before he was truly aware of what he was doing.

"Just that I'm afraid. She was travelling back from helping an outbreak of plague on Boros III when her personal shuttle was attacked and overpowered. The shuttle was left a drifting wreck in space with every other member of the crew dead and accounted for".

"Attackers?" asked Harry trying to process the information as analytically as possible while being aware that his great and growing anger was only being held in check by Chime's gentle song. It would simmer beneath that song though while growing all of the time just waiting to be released.

"Mostly human though there were a smattering of other races judging by the corpses left behind. By their wounds and their number Princess Luna acquitted herself very well indeed" said Nic.

"Strangely" interjected Harry "I don't care care about that fact at this moment. What else can you tell me?".

"Only that a message was left. Find her where it all ended".

"Well that's not cryptic" said Harry scornfully.

"Or a trap" added Nic.

"Oh no" Harry agreed sarcastically " _so_ not a trap". Harry then turned to Chime briefly nuzzling his cheek against the bird's body before continuing "Do we know exactly how long she has been missing?"

"Eight days at a minimum. That was the time, after all, that she was supposed to meet up with the _Hope_ ".

"Maximum time?" Harry prodded.

"Two weeks" Nic admitted grudgingly.

"Can you find her?" Harry asked but didn't direct his question at Nic but rather at Chime instead.

She crooned softly in reply and it took Harry a moment to fully grasp and understand what she meant. She was not Chime's bonded and Luna hadn't called for her (or been stopped from doing so somehow) though Chime was able to send a blurry mental picture, quite incomplete, of the planet that Luna was on thanks to the simple fact that Luna was bound to Harry and he to her through their marriage vows.

It triggered a memory in Harry one that still brought him pain given what precipitated it and, broadly speaking, it did fit the clue. He quickly described the image to Nic and then said "Bespin...Luna's on Bespin".

"That could be hundreds of worlds, possibly more, how can you be sure this is where you're supposed to go?"

"Because that's where my old life as a Jedi ended and my new life that led me back to Luna and becoming the Silver Prince began. It was also a very painful experience for me as it will always be connected with losing someone I cared about and I suppose the symmetry appeals to whoever it this is".

"They would have to know a lot about you for that to apply" Nic added.

"Yeah...it's more than a little unsettling" conceded Harry.

"Well if you're right I can have…" Nic stopped talking as, with a nod to Chime, Harry disappeared in a flash of fire "...Jedi Killers to go with you. I hate when he does that". The last sentence was said to a now empty room and Nic grumbled even more as he closed the connection from his end.

Harry meanwhile landed in Bespin a few miles from where, centuries before, he had faced Set Harth even as with a second flash of flame Chime reappeared in a second ball of fire with a bag full of Harry's gear.

With the ease of long practice he quickly placed all of his equipment in his favourite places while looking around the dingy alley that he had been flamed into. Sighing lightly he shook his head at all the _interesting_ places that Chime took him to.

Ten Days Earlier

Luna was screaming. She didn't know how long she had been screaming and often forgot that it actually was her screaming often enough as the pain from the almost continuous stream of Force Lightning had shattered her sense of time long ago.

She would have tried to crawl into a ball or to escape but unfortunately she was very tightly bound and unable to move at all.

Worse yet, whoever had her knew of magic's existence and had created a concoction to block it. It had been shot into her by way of a dart often enough that it had completely blocked her magic. It was like there was a heavy wet blanket tied around her core blocking it from being accessed at all.

All she was able to feel whenever she tried to form or cast a spell was a muddy headache as if she had a high fever and she found herself unable to focus on anything as the thoughts in her mind were too slippery to hold onto.

Her torture wasn't constant and was always varied with yesterday being poisons and today being lightning day. Her torturer didn't want her getting used to it and building a resistance to the pain after all.

As it was she had begun to hate the moments when she was not being tortured as that momentary respite, that time of peacefulness, hurt all the more because she knew that it could be taken away at any moment.

She survived all of this only by design but she had no space to think about why even if she wanted to because she found it difficult to concentrate on anything at all until the current dose of the drug was nearly completely out of her system.

At length her torturer stopped using the lightning on her and Luna slumped against her bonds involuntarily in relief and against the wall that anchored the shackles and helped keep her caged.

Her torturer was always the same and Luna had to wonder if she had ever met the woman before (by her frame it was clearly a woman) but even if she had it would have been next to impossible to tell under the woman's dark and obscuring full robe.

The most Luna had seen of her face was a strong pale chin and an almost constant mocking smile that only seemed to widen in true pleasure hearing Luna's screams of agony. She detested that smile more than anything else that she had been put through.

"This is the great Silver Princess?" her torturer mocked speaking for the first time in ages and the tone alone was so acidic that it made Luna flinch as if she had been struck. If it was really acid it would have eaten her in seconds "See me tremble! Oh I'm _so_ afraid".

"You should be. Even if you don't fear me you should fear my husband" replied Luna as calmly as she could manage. Aside from the torture she had not been allowed more than a few hours sleep and the drug made it almost impossible to meditate.

All of this meant that she had no idea how long she had been here as to her it could have been hours, days, weeks or even months by this point though she doubted that it could have been years..

"Don't talk about _Harry Potter_ to me. I know him far better than you ever could" snarled the woman and her outburst coincided with a renewed burst of even stronger Force Lightning.

Lunas screams entered a new pitch even as her throat began hoarse with the strength of them. She payed for true relief from her pain or even death. She babbled, cried and begged and she could feel the edges of her sanity beginning to fray.

If this continued she knew that her mind would be lost and from that, whether she survived or not, all that she loved as well as all that was loved about her could be destroyed.

When it stopped again, eternities later, Luna finally saw the face of her tormentor. Heavy lidded eyes with a striking violet colour greeted her balefully, the nose that was perfectly proportioned and the cheekbones was nearly so.

If her dusky face was not twisted with absolute fury and marred by the Dark Side Luna could see how she could have been considered a very desirable woman.

"You know my husband?" Luna asked at length.

"Far better than you" the woman responded both unhelpfully and scornfully with an insane gleam in her eye both seeming to focus on her captive and twitch almost as if she heard other voices in the air.

"He is my _husband_ "

"And he never should have been!" Snarled the woman.

"Who the hell are you?" Luna asked at her wits end and testy from her pain.

The woman smiled coldly at Luna and with a small holoprojector that she produced from a pocket in her robe showed an image of a sleeping face. It was her own and Luna was not so addled that she couldn't realise that she was looking at a clone of herself.

It was not however one that she had made (she could tell that at least) as the little bit of the tube that was in the background showed a completely different architecture than hers and none of the ones that she made, as far as she knew, were nearby.

"Pretty soon he will either be lost to you or I will be you and you will be dead" stated the woman with cold certainty.

"What have I done to you that would cause you to do this?" Luna asked the clearly mad woman.

"You stole _everything_ from me! It was always you!" The woman was screaming so much and had gotten so close to Luna that the bound woman tried to turn her head (to little effect) so she could avoid the spittle that was now hitting her in the face.

All she could really do was to scrunch her eyelids tightly closed and she wished that she could hit her enemy but the bonds that held her were still too tight for any action even one a futile as that.

"Soon" the mad woman gloated "you will be nothing more than dust and shadow and I will take might rightful place at Harry's side".

"You could never be me" spat Luna with cold certainty.

"I will be _better_ than you" the woman said with equal certainty.

"Still" said Luna snarkily "if you are to steal my life I think I should at least know your name".

"Does the cattle know the name of the butcher or the bug know the name of the owner of the boot?"

"I am neither the cattle nor the bug. You _will_ tell me your name" demanded Luna as if she were not bound and helpless but still the princess she had become.

"I suppose it would be of little consequence if i tell you as you are, after all, nothing or soon will be. My name is Selene of Nar Shaddaa".

The mad woman, now identified, tilted her head like a bird as she seemed to be studying Luna's very being right down to each individual cell and whatever she saw was clearly lacking if Luna judged her expression correctly.

"It may sound like a line from a bad movie but my mother's name was Selene" said Luna softly.

"Why would I care?" Selene snapped back and, after another moment of study, the torture began again and there was no more conversation between them.

It was going to be a long and painful night.


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29: The Past Bites

 _A/N: To those many reviewers that have commented about my chapters not being regularly updated… My family have been told we are at risk of a hereditary liver disease...we found out because my aunt need a new liver by christmas or she will not make it. It took months of tests (for various reasons) and I am clear but my brother is not. Luckily they caught it early before damage has been done and at the moment he is healthy._

 _In short real life is currently more important but I will keep writing and updating._

752 BBY

2,901 ATC

Nar Shaddaa/Almania

After a year of searching Harry had to admit that Set Harth was, quite annoyingly, very good. The wily bastard had so many false data trails and sometimes literal dead ends that it was beginning to drive Harry to distraction.

It was hardly surprising though given that the man had been at this a long time and had even managed to successfully evade the Jedi even when they were at their best. Harry had learned more about concealing himself and his clones from his hunt than he could have ever imagined possible.

The hunt which leads me, Harry thought, to this utterly shit hole in the wall called the _Last Sip_. I do wonder if it's called that because if you drink anything from here you might die.

In all fairness he _was_ sitting in the dingest bar that he had ever been in and drinking a watery concoction that was laughingly called tea given to him by the bartender who had also given him an odd look when he hadn't ordered something much stronger.

The main reason he hadn't was that he didn't want to drink anything that was probably made in someone's very used, not to mention filth encrusted, bath.

He had followed yet another false trail nearby and had been on his feet for almost two full days straight in horrid weather. When he had seen this place he had entered because (no matter the dubious nature of the drinks and the rough and ready customers) it was the nearest place that was warm, out of the rain and had seats to rest his weary body.

With the cowl of his robe pulled up and in a shadowing corner Harry was taking some much needed rest. He stretched his legs and felt the muscles almost literally groan and then loosen as he moved them.

That was when he noticed her.

She was a reasonably tall and dusky skinned woman dressed in the same rags that the other staff laughingly called a uniform who was arguing with an ever more angry Rodian. What was most striking about her however was her mesmerizing eyes which were a deep inscrutable violet.

She also had a small to middling amount of Force potential in her untrained of course (but in Nar Shaddaa this was hardly uncommon as far as those things went). If this were the Republic she would have made a fine Jedi he was sure and maybe even famed for her wisdom and courage as the better ones were.

This however was not the Republic and the Hutt Cartel had no use for Force trained slaves (which they were whether by being outright owned or merely subjugated to such by systematic and crippling exploitation) as they found them very difficult to control and not so secretly feared them learning anything of use that could be turned against their masters.

The Rodian that she was arguing with then reached out and grabbed her. In a place like this such things were not uncommon nor sadly was the fact that the woman clearly didn't like it one bit.

What was more out of the norm was that he wasn't trying to proposition her (or at least not in the traditional sense) as he was instead trying to trade her death sticks for some less than savory services.

When she refused, quite vehemently, he tried to force her and so Harry acted.

Moving swiftly and with the fluid grace of someone who had been both extensively trained and seen more than his fair share of combat the former Jedi was next to them before either fully realised what was happening.

Then he firmly but gently removed the waitress from the Rodian's hold, with a gentle smile for her and a deep frown for him, and was pleasantly surprised that she looked happy for the interruption as much as the man did not.

You never could tell in situations like these after all.

"What " began Harry "is going on here?"

"N-nothing Sir" the waitress stuttered. Grateful she may have been but she was also clearly terrified of losing her job as the homeless didn't fare well on Nar Shaddaa especially the striking ones.

The Rodian clearly had an entirely different take on the situation if his lecherous look at the waitress that was swiftly followed by one that clearly meant Harry was nothing more than shit on his boot was anything to go by.

"Negotiations" the man spat "this _whore_ was just playing hard to get is all". Harry noticed the way that the waitress flinched at the insult and then seemed to shrink into herself as if trying to avoid the label without hurting her chances of keeping her job.

"She doesn't seem that interested to me" Harry disagreed while arching an eyebrow. Inside however a small spark of anger had bloomed at seeing this formerly animated woman almost literally wilt as if she wanted to sink into the wall.

"She will agree eventually….they always do" the Rodian seemed completely unconcerned that he was now receiving a look from Harry that was very similar to the one he was giving only a moment ago.

"Do you wish to continue the conversation you were having?" Harry asked the woman as he turned to look at her fully.

"No sir" she, quite bravely he thought considering the situation she found herself in, answered.

"Bah!" the Rodian spat dismissively "She'll learn to haggle or lose her job" and just like that the bravery that Harry had seen sank back into a shell of meekness once again.

Turning to the waitress (and now ignoring Harry) the Rodian continued "the owner wouldn't be happy that you've upset such a long standing and valued customer such as myself and you wouldn't want that now would you?"

Harry watched as the horror of what that accusation would do to her life slowly unfolded in her mind. She reminded him of a puppy that had been kicked clear across a room as her shoulders sagged in defeat clearly terrified of the future that the Rodian painted for her.

The situation as it stood was clear to Harry. The woman clearly didn't want to but if he left she would go along with the suggestion (which was as good as rape as far as he was concerned) because she feared dying on the streets after being used in any number of horrifying ways.

So making a snap decision Harry waved his hand while staring intently at the Rodian before him.

"You don't want to do this"

"I don't want to do this" repeated the Rodian in a hollow and zombie like voice.

"You want to take a long walk and rethink your profession and your views on women" continued Harry.

"I want to take a long walk and rethink my profession and views on women"

"Good" finished Harry as his target snapped out of his trance like state and then his voice turn cold and hard. "Go".

With that the drug dealer left without a word spoken. He was clearly already lost in thought regarding both his job and his dubious morals while the waitress looked at Harry with a mixture of gratitude and a not so small amount of fear.

To her credit she didn't run away though.

"How did you _do_ that?" She asked when she could finally speak.

"Magic" he responded with an open smile and a wink while lying through his teeth as it simply had been a rather strong Mind Trick even as the waitress shook her head slowly and began to move off.

Harry then sat back down slowly and began to quietly drink the rest of his now lukewarm tea and enjoying the new silence that permeated the bar since the drug dealer had left.

At length he was standing and getting ready to leave when the woman came back and gave him an on the house refill of his tea. Harry smiled in thanks even though he didn't feel it (the tea _was_ particularly awful) and drank it with apparent relish while thanking her politely.

Much to his surprise, after he had done so, she didn't move away instead studying him in what she probably thought was a subtle manner looking at him as if she could see all he was and ever could be.

To her he was a puzzle that she was slowly trying to solve and the task was made all the more difficult to her as not only did he not speak but she had never met a person like him before.

She took a seat next to him as she did so both resting her own tired body and, eventually, trying to summon up the nerve to ask him something. Harry being a polite person, when it suited him, simply gave her the time to do so.

"You know I never did say thank you" she said and Harry noted (as he had been rather busy with the unnamed Rodian before) that her voice had a soft, lilting and almost musical edge to it.

"You are welcome" replied Harry.

"I know you are not a magician" she stated with complete certainty.

"No?" he asked amused.

"No" she said firmly " _you_ are a Jedi"

"I'm not a Jedi...and you are too old to be accepted as one anyway" he replied.

"Like I want to live under their rules and restrictions" she retorted.

"It would be better than here" he pointed out

"A golden cage is still a cage. I'll take true freedom….if I can ever earn it". She looked at him again "A Jedi...yet not a Jedi…..are you William Potter?"

"Am I really that famous?" he question genuinely curious.

"Yes" was the blunt reply "even the street beggars have heard of you. That happens when your image was blasted all over the Holonet during that not so little rebellion a few years ago".

"Well I guess my secrets out" Harry said and despite himself he had a note of bitterness in his voice as his memories of being a Jedi all seemed tainted with the death of his friend and though the woman across from him heard it clearly she chose not to comment.

Bitterness was common in the people that passed through after all.

Instead she decided then and there to take the man across from her as he was and not as the Holonet portrayed him to be or assuming what people said about him was true. It helped, in her mind, that he had helped her without asking for anything in return, appeared to be about her age and had beautiful green eyes

"Can I ask a question?" She said.

"Isn't that a question?" Harry teased smiling briefly.

"What is a Jedi, even a former Jedi, doing here?"

"I thought that would be obvious...I'm relaxing after a very long day" he replied.

"Seriously?" Her voice was incredulous.

"Seriously". He rubbed first his leg and then his face, still tired and aching, and tried to wake himself up and refocus on the conversation with the woman before him. "Though honestly I'm looking for someone".

"Oh really?" She teased and batted her eyes at him.

"Not like that that" he responded in no mood for the joke. "I'm looking for a man that has hurt many people".

"A bad man?"

"A very bad man" Harry agreed "who caused the death of my friend".

"I'm sorry" she said and her hand flittered out like a nervous bird briefly touching his before moving away. "Forgive me for saying so but this seems like quite a long way to go for a friend".

"I don't have many" he whispered softly while his mind was drawn back towards his boyhood (relatively speaking) friend who had fallen so very far.

"You do know" she said snapping him out of his painful memories "that everyone ends up coming though Nar Shaddaa eventually and bar staff are worse than elderly women for gossip. I could tell you what I hear...it might help".

"Your price?" Though an average Jedi might have expected that she would help him for free he was much more pragmatic than that and this was not a pampered world of the Core by any stretch of the imagination nor was anyone here liable to do anything for free.

"Like almost everyone that lives here I am bound under a contract that I inherited from my parents and they from their grandparents… probably even further than that for all I know. They don't call it slavery but it is and there is no way that I can pay it off in my lifetime and every generation adds interest so my children, if I ever have any, will be worse off".

"I am aware of the practice...I don't agree with it but I'm aware of it" stated Harry.

"I want you to pay me money to help you and, if my information leads you to the man you seek, give me a nice fat bonus as well as paying off the remainder of my contract".

"What makes you think I have money anywhere near that amount?" Harry asked.

"Please… Potter Industries does….it might even be the highest grossing company in the entire Republic for all I know. To them my contract wouldn't even register".

"Potter Industries has...but not me" Harry said.

"But you are the heir and, by all accounts, your brother likes you so it should be easy for you to help me" she replied bluntly.

"Fair enough" Harry grudgingly admitted while extending his hand. "Miss?"

"Selene" said the woman while shaking his hand "just Selene".

Over the next year their business relationship turned into friendship, with unspoken undertones of more, and Harry gained more than enough leads from the arrangement with her to justify the expense.

It was so successful in fact that not only did he form similar relationships (business not personal) throughout the galaxy but parts of it would eventually go on to become the nucleus from which Nic would build the Commonwealth's spy network.

The practice was still in use by the Commonwealth's ever expanding network (and just one of many tools in their arsenal) by the time that Luna was captured.

747 BBY

2,906 ATC

The Ruby Towers were two skyscrapers as well as Almania's answer to the 500 Republica of Coruscant and, given the general depression that the Republic was going through at this time, was far more prosperous not that the Core Worlds would ever admit it.

Elegant and spacious the apartments were the fashion and even without the interiors the space that even the cheapest had was immense. The furnishings provided (for a very large extra fee) were tasteful and understated pieces of beauty.

There was, as a general rule, paintings and sculptures created by several masters of their own arts from across the known galaxy. Wooden furnishings from Morribar and Kashyyyk, wool from Dantooine and along with a smattering of industrial grade goods (for example light fixtures and refrigeration units) from Coruscant though they produced most themselves.

Harry owned the penthouse as Potter Industries had footed the bill for the initial construction and then gifted almost the entire building to the Democratic State of Almania. In return the penthouse was his and his families for so long as the building stood.

Selene lived there too.

The relatively new government was more than happy with the arrangement as they actually sold very few of the units and instead rented them and, more often than not, the furnishings out for a yearly fee. This not only brought in a great deal of wealth but kept taxes lower which helped the Government in many ways.

Not least it drew more rich people to transfer their businesses to the planet and then live in the Towers. It was a lovely cycle for the planet and it had already developed a reputation, not only as a tax haven but as a good place to run your business as well.

The planet was now a far cry from the backwater it was once considered to be.

In the intervening years since their first meeting and now Selene had moved far beyond the simple waitress that she once was. She had taken the money that her information had given her and enrolled in many Holonet education programs (some of which were _very_ expensive and well respected) and had done so in relative secrecy.

She had, more importantly for her immediate needs, also managed to buy herself free.

After she had done so she had found herself liking both the business and personal relationship that she was developing with Harry so much that she had transitioned from asset to defacto spymistress for him on his hunt for Set Harth.

For a girl that for years barely had a small pallet on a dirty floor and at the end of the bar to call home it was nothing short of a meteoric rise. She had at first been star struck by the size of her new home but had eventually settled in and even added a few small personal touches here and there to make the place her own.

Aside from her office there was a living room that was, in and of itself, almost three times the size of the _Last Sip_ and her bed was not the rough canvas sack that she had been accustomed to but rather a King size four poster slice of elegance that, to her, was simply heaven. Topping that off with a shower that could comfortably fit five people it was easy to see why she adored her new home.

The only thing that she hadn't expected was to fall in love. She liked William at first certainly and found him very attractive but slowly over time that affection had morphed into something deeper and they had begun a life together as well as hunting for Set Harth.

For all that there were two rooms in the place where she, by mutual consent, could not enter. The first was William's meditation chamber and the second was his library and (at first) the fact that both of those places were off limits hadn't bothered her in the slightest.

William had done so much for her at the beginning that it had seemed unfair to quibble over such a trivial thing. He had helped her out of virtual slavery, valued her for her skills and helped to improve them and, above all, treated her like a person rather than a disposable object.

Things had changed though and over time the closed off areas were beginning to nag at here or rather one was. She had no desire to see the meditation chamber as even though he had taught her a few things to defend herself (little more than tricks really) she had no inclination to learn more and he didn't want to teach.

The library was a different matter however primarily because though it was called that it was more accurately an archive. She knew that the majority of the room (even though she hadn't seen it) was covered, wall to wall, in some very interesting books. She had only been able to get that much from William after a night of heavy drinking on both or their parts and when sober he would simply not discuss it.

He had told her that it helped him to organise his thoughts if he wrote them down in his journals and that the tactile sensation of writing with pen, paper and ink helped the process more than a datapad ever could.

She had 'caught' him more than once with a small plain and brown book. Unbeknownst to her though occlumency and Jedi cantrips could do just as much he had found that the cathartic release that he was looking for was both easier and stronger if he did it that way.

When their relationship had progressed to a physical level and the feelings between them had grown was the time that it had begun to really nag at her. She thought about how little she actually knew about him, aside from the fact that she loved him and he seemed to care deeply or maybe even love her, and what hints about him those books might contain.

The secrets they held tempted her, tormented her, and they had even begun to enter her dreams whispering at her as William slept peacefully beside her. It was somehow worse because she had been told by him that he would tell her everything in his own time.

They lived together, worked together and made love together why was now not the right time? That thought haunted her waking hours as the mystery of the man deepened almost like a growing black hole in her mind.

Still he wouldn't discuss his past.

Even worse she had tried to be okay with it and share her life, hoping against hope, that he would return the favour and yet here they were now in a situation where he knew almost everything about her and she knew so little about him.

No amount of rationalisation would make the need to go away and neither would his repeated denials to discuss it and, after doing a discreet search on the Holonet and finding nothing that she did not already know, she had decided to act.

She knew it was wrong and she knew that it was an intense invasion of privacy but she really couldn't help herself. She had learned quite a lot from her time in Nar Shaddaa as well as her job working with William and she knew that if she could only find the barest crumbs of his life on the Holonet it was because he had removed them.

The closed door beckoned to her and she, with all the skill that she had gathered through her life, had only one obstacle which happened to be a very expensive lock that was both very secure and expensive. The need to see behind that mechanism had consumed her however and she applied herself diligently to the task.

When she had finally decided to open the door she first made sure that William was away on one of his many hunts for Set Harth (and as he returned only sporadically and was often away for weeks at a time finding an opening was easy enough) she had expected to find, despite his tipsy claim, a small room with five to six books in it.

Instead what she found was one tall and grand bookcase that took up one full wall filled with his actual journals (they were noticeably smaller than the other books and well worn) and then three or four more bookcases full of other books.

After a moment's perusal she realised that these books were either collections of other peoples work on the Force or his own unique musings on the same subject. There was also notes on his own personal history in relation to the wider galaxy (maps of his journey's mostly), a place called Earth and even something called magic.

Looking at all the information these books contained she was never more grateful that she had learned Jedi cantrips for memory retention as there was so much information there and her fingers were itching to get at those pages.

Shaking herself to gather all that she was together and prioritise to her immediate needs she headed first to the actual journals and picked up the first one.

Caressing its leather cover and then opening the first page she was confused for a moment. The name on the page was not that of William Potter but rather of Harry.

Why, she wondered, would William keep a diary of his fathers? Sentimentality, a family trait or tradition? Was he supposed to keep them to learn from his father's errors?

Shrugging she sat down to read starting quite logically with the first one. She would read many over time and often cross reference with the books on the Force, philosophy and the maps to mark, reference and understand the incredible story that she had stumbled upon.

-LAFA-

Harry stepped through the door of his home and dropped the shoulder bag that he was carrying by the door. Then he detached his lightsabers, put them on a nearby table,and removed his outer robe placing it on a hook in the wall.

All he wanted at that point was a shower, a warm meal and then a long sleep before thinking about anything else that he had to do.

He was a little concerned that he couldn't see Selene in the main rooms or that she hadn't left a note (as she usually did when she went out) but internally shrugged.

Thinking about Selene led him to think about his relationship with her. It was, as far as he was concerned, good and over time he had grown to care for her quite deeply but he wasn't sure if he loved her.

He was quite happy to see if the relationship progressed to that however and tried to keep his past in his past. He had learned from Hakk's example the dangers of focusing solely on one person excluding all others.

After everything that he had been through having someone who cared for him as a person, rather than a saviour or a Jedi, that he could come home to was more than a little nice.

In short, as much as he still thought about Luna every now and again, he was making a concerted attempt to move on with his life and above all live in the present. Though a bit paradoxical given his continuing hunt for Set Harth he was still a work in progress and hoped that no matter what happened between him and Selene in the end they would, at the worst, remember each other with fondness.

As he moved deeper into his home the heel of his heavy boots made soft thunking noises on the wooden floor and it might have been this that alerted Selene to his presence. He heard, soon enough, a crush from deeper in his home and he quickly moved towards it.

What he saw made him angry. Selene didn't pay for anything in the apartment and was still paid (by Potter Industries) a _very_ healthy wage for her work and all he had ever asked of her in return was the freedom to share things in his own time without being either forced or rushed into anything.

He hadn't escalated their relationship into its current physical form. Not that he was complaining that it had it was simply more that, though he was trying to move on and recover from his recent past, he wanted to be as fair as he could be to her

That was why the meditation chamber and library were off limits. They were the things that were either remnants of or inexplicably connected to his past and he simply wasn't ready to share them yet.

She had said that she understood, that she would be patient, yet he felt himself becoming furious as he found the source of the noise and struggled for a sense of calm.

In the absolute center of his room sat Selene.

Selene who had said she would wait and that she _understood_. Selene who said that it didn't matter to her as long as she had him. Selene who had lied to him. Selene who had betrayed him.

She didn't notice him standing there at first. She was too engrossed with the latest journal in her hands and the myriad of reference books on his travels and the Force that were laying haphazardly around her.

In her defence in the many years that Harry had been alive he had not only written a lot but had become a fine artist and had sketched many parts of his journey, and the people and places that were important to him, either on their own pages or in the margins of the small books.

"What" Harry said coldly "are you doing?"

Startled Selene jumped up and for the first time in her life saw the Jedi Lord in all of his fury.

His very being seemed to radiate his anger. His eyes that were once so beautiful to her had turned such a dark green as to be almost black and his face was marred by the hurt and betrayal that was etched upon each millimeter of skin.

For the briefest moment she truly looked guilty only for that look to be replaced with her own fury and sense of betrayal. Clearly from her shifting expressions she had many different questions running through her head but she did eventually settle on one.

"Who _are_ you!?" She half screeched.

"I am the same person I was when I met you" he said softly but with an edge of danger in his voice. "The question is...who have _you_ become?"

"You have killed so many" she countered.

"Yes" he admitted simply with no excuses or equivocations.

Though he would never forget nor would he ever be comfortable with it (and worse never be truly sure how many of his actions were directly influenced let alone outright controlled by the Sith) he knew exactly who and what he was.

The guilt was there and it would always be but, when he thought about it, he used it to be better...to never allow that small twisted part of himself to control or conquer again. "Is that what gives you the right to violate my privacy?"

"You've been keeping secrets from me" she accused.

"You knew that" Harry responded harshly his voice almost slapping her in the face. "Oh don't be such a naive child. Everyone has secrets and relationships _should_ be about slowly feeling safe enough to open up and willingly share them with another person. The good, the bad, the beautiful and the truly horrific."

"And you couldn't do that with me?" Selene half asked and half accused.

"It's a matter of trust and like a spoiled child you simply couldn't wait". Harry looked around the almost completely ransacked room. "Clearly I was right not to trust you if this is how you act".

"I wouldn't have done this if you hadn't kept things from me" she said with acid dripping from her tone as her own anger rose to match his. "By the Hutts you didn't even tell me your real name".

"Are names really what are important? I was honest with you about everything that I shared and even told you straight out that I wouldn't, couldn't, share everything except to my own timetable and _you_ agreed to that".

"I didn't know what I agreed to" she yelled.

"And I don't care" his voice wasn't devoid of anger but it was...dead...for lack of a better term. "Any trust that I had in you has been destroyed by your own actions. If you were truly unhappy you could have forced an actual conversation rather than try and hint at it and weedle as much information as you could out of little conversations. _That_ was one of the reasons I didn't talk about it. I do not like games or manipulations".

"And what about you _William_? What about my faith and trust in you? Selene said in a small and bitter voice.

"Clearly" said Harry looking around the room once again "that is in tatters. You were important to me but after this? Our relationship is over and what you think and feel means less than nothing to me".

His voice had become remarkably distant during the course of his reply as if was already distancing himself from her and separating their lives. It was as if she was being consigned to a bottomless pit almost as if what they had once shared never existed.

"And what about her?" Selene argued throwing a loose page at his feet rather violently.

Looking down he saw one of his many drawings. It was of Luna mid laugh and lounging with her feet propped against a low piece of Hogwarts stone work from back when they had met and talked so often.

He honestly couldn't remember the joke that he had told to get that reaction but it was the first time that he had heard her so happy and carefree and he treasured the moment and it was a very fond memory of his.

A memory of simpler times and safety which, to him, she had now tarnished.

"She is someone I trust" Harry responded his voice firm and unyielding.

"But _I_ loved you!" she said as if that would explain and excuse everything that she had done.

"No. You needed me and wanted me, all of me, that's not the same".

With a wave of his hand all of his journals and books turned to piles of grey ash before her eyes and he summoned everything that he needed from the home to his hand and into the expanded shoulder bag that had landed at his feet softly.

Then without another word and amidst her screams and growing rants, left her life for many many years.

She on the other hand took the skills that she had learned and went down a different path.

She had read enough knowledge and memorised enough titles of books only mentioned in the ones that she had seen to change her life forever.

51 BBY

Bespin

Harry had expected that the mansion that once belonged to Set Harth would end up being demolished, abandoned or have another apartment complex built in its place. He should have seen some change, maybe even a new factory or shopping center but it still stood almost the same as it once was.

It had been repaired and reinforced however and then restructured into as much of a fortress as you could make it while still keeping it recognisably similar.

Harry couldn't help but wonder why someone had gone to such great pains to keep it that way until he realised that whoever did so wanted him to remember the last time he was here with every step he took.

It was also crawling with armed men and women almost like a furious steel ant hill. Harry recognised some of the logos on their equipment from his old bounty hunter days. They were a private army made up of a mishmash of the best that the criminal underworld had to offer.

He had seen hard eyes like that before many many times.

These people had been broken by their lives and by their choices to the point where if they were desperate enough for meat they would easily chop up their neighbour or, if they were required to do so, would have no compunction in breaking a baby's head against a tree.

Added to the actual guards there were also several laser turrets with multiple guns on each emplacement (all were manned of course). There were snipers on every decent in crows nests that could be found or made and none were out of sight of the others long enough for Harry to take action without being seen.

It appeared that, unlike Hogwarts, the person that had designed this had a long time to prepare for a Jedi incursion as well as Harry personally. He couldn't even wait for a unit of droids as it had an impressive killing ground and, if he attacked directly, Harry had no doubt that they would kill Luna before he could break through and find her.

Direct apparition inside was also out of the question as, if this was who he was beginning to suspect, they would have doubtless prepared for him to do that very thing. Whether it would be hidden alarms, traps or just spontaneous ray shields or something he couldn't think of he wasn't going to try it.

Hopefully he had something that they wouldn't be prepared for though.

He turned to Chime who was watching him silently from a tree in the well maintained park that he was using as cover.

"Go" Harry said meeting the bird's eyes. "Save her if you can….if not" even thinking about it hurt Harry but it had to be said "stay with her for me? I'll be along as soon as I can".

Chime thrilled her agreement and then was off within a flash of fire.

-LAFA-

Luna was laying in her cell still unable to connect to her magic and hating the shackles as well as the band on her head that stopped her connecting to the Force. She was also cursing her own stupidity of going out only in her shuttle and vowing never to be that stupid again.

Sometimes, like Harry, she felt weighed down by her position and simply wanted a moment of freedom, a moment where she could enjoy the peace of simply being Luna, and paid the price for her lax guard by being kidnapped.

She was also amazed that after everything she had been through she had managed to lie about her mothers name while being tortured but, then again, Harry always had said that she was stronger than she ever realised.

Small rebellion aside she still wished that she could enter a healing trance to recover from her multitude of wounds. The most damaging were poorly healed by Selene herself as it wouldn't have served her sadistic pleasures if Luna had died right then but they still hurt her with every single involuntary twitch of movement.

She had noticed, in those so few and fleeting moments where she felt clear headed, that her captor seemed more than a little scatterbrained with five or six different plans seemingly running through her head.

Selene would mutter to herself almost every third or forth second and tilt her head in an odd way while she did so. It was almost like the woman was having conversations with someone, or several someones that weren't really there.

In short Luna was frightened because her captor was, by any measure, bat shit crazy.

All in all the situation for Luna couldn't have gotten much worse and all she could do was internally keep repeating the old adage of where there is life there is hope. It really didn't help all that much and, though she had no idea of how long she had been here, the words had become almost completely hollow and empty to her.

She was sinking into despair despite her best efforts to stop it.

Then Chime appeared in a fiery ball of music that began to banish the dark cloud that had begun to settle on her shoulders and in her bones. The bird then landed and began to quickly cry softly on her wounds.

Though the concoction in Luna's system kept her magic from helping there was enough latent power in the tears to heal her wounds and she unsteadily rose to her feet and smiled gratefully at her husband's familiar.

"Thanks Chime" she said softly even as the bird continued to sing softly. Leaning against the wall as she felt her strength return she continued " Can you get me out of here?"

Sadly and with great reluctance Chime shook her head in denial with a sad noise escaping her body even as her beak, sharpened with her natural magic, broke both the chains and the band blocking her connection to the Force.

They fell to the floor with a dull thud and Luna spared them a single disdainful glance as they shattered on impact. She felt the Force once again flow throughout her body and almost sighed in relief.

The reason that the phoenix couldn't simply flame her away had to do with the fundamental differences between the fire by which the birds travelled and travel by apparition.

When a wizard moved themselves from one place to another their magic expanded out and enveloped them and the surrounding space like a cocoon. They directed their travel with a set of coordinates or a mental picture until they arrived at their destination. It was also why some arrived with a louder pop than others as the larger amount air in the cocoon made a louder noise for those that were either sloppy or new to the practice.

It also meant that taking someone with them, while more draining, was simply a matter of being _intentionally_ sloppy and wasn't really that difficult.

Phoenixes however travelled very differently. As creatures more primal than wizards (though no less intelligent and often more so) no one was quite certain how they travelled when they were alone but, as they were often passengers, they did have a basic understanding of what was required for them to take people with them.

Unlike the wizarding method they instinctively connected with the magic or the person they were carrying (which was also why they couldn't transport muggles though wizards could) and somehow took them as part of their natural fire.

Inorganics or basically anything dead could be carried without this problem though magical theorists had no idea why and all phoenixes that wizardkind had ever met opposed (often violently) any study of themselves.

It was a goal in life for the darkest of theorist to do so anyway as they did realise that the phoenixes way of travel required less energy and, at least as far as the majority knew anyway, there were no wards to stop their travel.

It was also one of many reasons that there were very few phoenixes bonded to wizards.

In the present situation this meant that, as much as Chime may want to, she was unable to take Luna anywhere as though she could sense Luna the same concoction that blocked Luna from her magic also impeded Chime. To Chime's senses it was like running into a thick brick wall.

Thankfully with the Force back and singing in Luna's veins and glorying in being free it cleared her mind even further and, frankly, she was very grateful for the company.

She did make a mental note to make sure that all of her future clones, like her husbands, should have phoenix tears added as part of their makeup. Harry, thanks to his trip into the chamber, had after all accidently discovered how to keep them in your system. All it required was a sufficiently powerful venom and during the growing process both were now added only for the poison to be removed shortly after.

Apparently no wizard had ever been foolish enough or brave enough to have both basilisk venom and phoenix tears in their system before. Apparently after such a virulent attack the phoenix tears altered, sort of like an immune response, the D.N.A of a subject so they were constantly produced in low levels.

The health benefits of even such a low level of those tears were more than obvious.

What Harry had achieved through Rataka technology could be reproduced naturally as well. This was especially useful as the Geo Forge was needed for things other than producing clones of them both.

As she and Chime left her cell in search of her weapons and a place to get safely out of the madwoman's abode she couldn't help her thoughts as they began to drift to her beloved hoping that he was safe.

-LAFA-

As night fell Harry was thinking through what he could do while keeping himself hidden as much as he could.

The thing about frontal assaults, Harry thought, was that they were loud and very flashy things...as were lightsabers and magic more often than not.

That made one, under his current circumstances, suicidal to pull off and meant that Harry would have to dust off his thinking (metaphorically at least) from his old bounty hunter days.

Aside from the twelve patrollers that would go out on speeder bikes there were also nine snipers that covered the open ground as well as the seven man team on foot patrolling the interior.

The only bonus for Harry was that in their rush to hurt him the person that had reinforced the place had, by necessity, not changed the overall architecture that much. Before he had attacked the place the first time Harry had gained (and then memorised) the plans along with the most likely weak points during his hunt.

Thankfully, from what he had observed he didn't have long until the speeders would come in to be relieved and he briefly thought of taking out one and then assuming the dead mercenaries identity under a glamour before discarding it.

It was far too risky and, if discovered, he would be dead in seconds or worse Luna would be killed or moved before he (in a fresh body) could find her and free her.

So he turned his attention, once again, to the snipers. The farthest and highest was far up on the roof of one wing of the house and was half laying, half crouched while scanning his field of fire in a lazy pattern. From this position this one was clearly the most likely to raise an alarm as he could easily spot anyone coming towards the house first.

Knowing that having a vague idea of where certain things were could prove useful in the house as well as taking into account his own limited equipment he had begun to gather a fair few ideas that coalesced soon enough in his mind into a fully formed plan.

With the quietest pop he could manage he moved from his concealed position to just behind the sniper on the roof. Blind apparition was always dangerous but, given the short distance and his years of practice he thought it was an acceptable risk.

Thankfully he was quiet enough about it that the sniper didn't hear him and, from a small legilimency probe, learned what he needed.

He slowly withdrew the often unused and concealed combat knife. With the smallest and most delicate movements that he could manage he waited until the other snipers that overlapped the line of sight were scanning different terrain and then struck.

Covering the man's mouth with one hand (still silver though covered by a dark glove) and doing his best to keep his targets struggles to a minimum he stabbed the man several times in the kidneys.

He idly wondered, in that moment, if the reason that the Jedi could be so self righteous so easily was because a lightsaber cauterized as it killed. It was much harder to be sure of your goodness if you had blood on your hands after all.

As soon as he felt the man shudder one final time before dying he quickly positioned the man back where he once was but, not before searching the body as quickly as he could.

He found some explosives, a blaster, a few credit chips, a com unit in the corpses ear and a small medkit. He took the explosives and popped the com unit in his ear, trading it for a non functional conjured one, Just in time too as with a small vibration in his ear it activated.

"Tango clear" stated the voice.

"Echo clear" he responded gruffly having plucked the callsign from his victims head and ducking back down before he was noticed. When a few minutes passed and no shots came his way or alarms blared and with no sign of increased activity at all he breathed a sigh of relief.

He then moved onto sniper after sniper improving both his knowledge of the rejuvenated complex and his supplies as he went and dealt with them the same way as he had the first.

When he got to the last one however he staggered and made a distinctive thud as he appeared next to the man. It wasn't really his fault as, though he did have large magical reserves (which at this point exceeded either Dumbledore or Voldemort at the height of their powers), apparition was not designed to be used so frequently without rest and rejuvenation in between.

Nor was the human body for that matter. The constant toing and froing had made his lungs burn and his skin feel like it had been given a very rough once over with sandpaper. His eyeballs felt like they had been pressed through a sieve, his tongue was thick and heavy almost as if it was stuck to the bottom of his mouth and his hands trembled from being squeezed through a tube too many times.

Still he managed, if barely, to get the jump on the last man.

What followed was not a great fight or surgical precision but rather a rough and dirty tumble more reminiscent of bar room brawls than trained professionals which ended with a knife through the nose and up into the brain for his enemy.

Soon he had taken what he could from this one as well. He now had many explosives and, as added insurance, a brace of knives from the last man as well.

Using magic he reinforced the charms that would help muffle his movements (he dare not use any stronger ones) and wearily disillusioned himself before jumping over the side of the building and landing near what once was (and from the dead mercenaries thoughts what was again) the main power center of the house.

He would have used that magic earlier but he wasn't sure how long it would have held up as he was popping himself from place to place and the last thing that he needed was some lucky sniper seeing him raise himself up like a quail for a lucky headshot.

Waiting quietly for the most opportune moment he eventually snuck his way into the former garage turned power center. Thankfully the explosives that he had 'requisitioned' were not only military grade but came with a handy timed detonator and switch.

He moved slowly and carefully with them, not because they weren't stable but because he wanted to get it right, and shaped just over half of the malleable explosives around the main power battery. He then placed a switch detonator in the center of the lump like a tiny cherry on top of an explosive sundae.

Then he hid once again waiting for the next rider to be called in.

Thankfully for his own sanity (every moment he waited Luna was being kept and very likely tortured if not killed) it was only minutes later that the next speeder rider came in to take a break.

No matter how well trained people needed to sleep after all and it was nearly the time when all of those people, both the snipers and the speeders, would be relieved. It was a delicate balancing act as soon enough the snipers would be discovered but he needed as many advantages as possible if he was going to rescue Luna.

He then, quickly and yet still trying not to rush, moulded the remaining explosive underneath the first bike that came in. He was just in time too as, barely seconds after he was finished and had hidden himself once again, another rider came in and took off on the altered bike.

Once he was sure that the rider was clear (as well as not being able to wait any longer) he hoped that the new rider was deep enough into his route for his plan to work and pressed the button.

The resulting explosion was massive and drew the other patrollers, as well as everyone else, towards the heat and sound of it.

As orders were barked and cries of alarm were heard he opened a side window and swiftly jumped out while setting off his second explosion killing almost all power to the complex.

Backup power came online within a second but Harry was already moving, as fast as the Force would allow, and the brief gap allowed Harry to get inside while the majority of the security measures designed to stop or contain him were offline.

Now he just had to find Luna.

-LAFA-

Luna had spent the last few hours hiding while trying to force the anti magic concoction from her system. Sadly for her it was both very well designed and stubborn as it resisted her attempts to do so even when she called on the Force to aid her.

While she would have had better luck entering a healing trance and purging it from her system that way she did not have the luxury to take the time needed for that method to work.

She was being hunted and it was taking all of her skill with the Force to stay one step ahead of her pursuers. It seemed like the majority of this places security forces were hunting her and she was never more happy to have Chime with her as the bird often flamed away to distract or mislead their hunters.

She couldn't seem to shake them however and realised the crux of her problem fairly early on. Though she had the Force so did the person directing the people hunting for her and while she had Chime they had more manpower, time and frankly were in a better condition to fight than she was.

It was a miracle that she had lasted this long but she knew that her time was running out and soon enough they would catch her and all that would take was a single misstep on her part.

She had managed to recover both her circlet (and the armour that it contained) and her lightsaber at least.

The rest of her things were lost leading her to the conclusion that not only had others divvied up her remaining possessions but that the circle and lightsaber were either going to be used by the mad woman or kept as some sort of obscene trophy.

Regardless the hunt could not last forever as, despite Chime's unique abilities, they were still outnumbered and on enemy ground. With both sides calling on the Force she new that it would be of limited help at best.

After all (outside of its own idea of balance) the Force seemed to rarely take sides when it came to two different sects fighting. If it did then the almost continuous conflict between the Jedi and the Sith would have ended long ago.

Not that it wouldn't help her...it was more like it would be just as likely to help her foe just as much and she couldn't then rely on it alone to save her from a grizzly and dark fate.

All she could hope was that Harry helped her or the potion wore off enough so that Chime could help her get out before they found her but, as time went on with no significant change in her circumstances, it was looking less and less likely.

She tried her best to resign herself to the fact that she would probably die here as, even with her body recovering, she was far away from being able to defeat those that came for her.

-LAFA-

Harry was, at this moment, hardly at his best either.

It had been a long time since he had relied on magic so extensively and it showed in his slightly weary movements.

His version of stealth, as it turned out, had been a good idea as he hadn't been caught yet as the mercenaries were divided on which explosion to deal with first and he used that confusion to his advantage.

It didn't mean that everything was fine in his world however. He still hadn't found Luna and was finding it harder and harder to focus through his rage, fear and weariness to do so. Even if he had the time to truly rest he doubted that he would have been able to until his wife was safe once again.

He had found that he really missed using his lightsaber as, subtly aside, over the years it had become a part of him and really was a very effective weapon. Though the knives and the silenced blaster that he was currently using drew less attention they did make things harder.

Case in point though he had encountered much less resistance (the elements of surprise and distraction were wonderful things) and there were no alarms, though whether that was by design or the temporary loss of power he couldn't be sure, there were still contingencies in place.

He was forcefully reminded of this inconvenient fact very painfully as he moved a dart from the side of his neck and felt his magical senses deaden as if they were utterly submerged in a bottomless sea.

The man that had managed to shoot that into him was dead for his trouble though, the knife that was embedded in his chest had taken a shade too long and allowed the now cooling body to get a sort of revenge.

Harry found the effect of the concoction more than a little disturbing and somewhat reminiscent of a man that suddenly lost his sight.

Added to all of that his enemy was being particularly elusive and trying to hide their presence but, from this distance, even the best obfuscation would begin to lose its effectiveness unless they were truly a master and so it wasn't exactly a surprise that he could feel them somewhere ahead.

It was difficult to tell although that was less due to his opponents skill and more to do with the fact that the Dark Side seemed to coat everything in a thick and fetid oil. It was almost like the entire place was dripping in so much of it that, when he left, he would never get clean.

Putting away his 'subtle' weapons he drew his saber as, without magic, he was more vulnerable now than he had been in centuries and not just because of the poison now seeping through his bloodstream.

If he failed here he could end up losing everything that was important to him.

As much as understood that the balance between light and dark was necessary he was both disgusted and attracted to the dark. A small part of him wanted it and, in this place, it was growing like an itch beneath his skin.

It was hardly surprising in a way. The Jedi Temple was such a beacon of the light in part because it had housed the Jedi for so long and also because they had attuned the Scared Spire beneath it to the light side of the Force (the Spire and Jedi also served to effectively neutralize an ancient sith shrine deep underground there but that was beside the point).

In a similar fashion this place had been used for the Dark Side for centuries uncounted and with all of that hatred, fear, death and violence it had become a nexus of the dark. Set Harth was, unbeknownst to Harry, not the first nor was he clearly the last to use the place for such things.

Given the fact that Luna had been kidnapped along with the absence of Chime, his growing exhaustion as well as his fear for her he found his control slipping. It was tenuous at best before this but with every step his senses were becoming more clouded and more welcoming to the dark.

With his control rapidly failing his eyes were turning more and more from their customary green to a burnt amber hue. The hunger for violence was rising in him and the walls began to whisper to him things that he couldn't quite hear.

He held it in check, if barely, with one simple idea. He had to find Luna and make sure that she was safe. As he tried to keep that in the forefront of his mind the whispers increased in pressure, clawing at his skull, offering wealth and power...endless dominion if only he would give in completely.

Harry was not aware but this was all part of Selene's plan (one of them anyway) to wear him down as, if she couldn't capture him directly, she intended the power of this place and the occasional fight to corrupt him and help make him hers.

Eventually he did find Luna but when he did two things were absolutely clear.

First and foremost the Dark Side almost had him completely as Chime would not have ever, under normal circumstances, hissed at him. There was not a single speck of green in the shocked amber eyes that looked at his familiar and saw the look of shocked horror mirrored in his wife's face.

Second and perhaps most important given their present circumstances Selene had found Luna less than a second after she had locked eyes with Harry.

Selene's shout, half of longing and half of rage, was enough to forestall any conversation between the married couple as well as any attempt that Harry might possibly have at finding his balance once again.

"Selene" said Harry his voice loaded with quiet malice even as every cell in his body sang joyously at the idea of annihilating his foe. He turned to meet this new threat and the Dark Side in him hungered for her pain and the end to her existence.

Images flew past in his mind's eye. It would be so easy to convert the Commonwealth into a new Empire and crush the bloated Republic and their sanctimonious Jedi. He could see himself ruling with an iron fist and no one would ever threaten those he loved again.

Luna could be made to fall in line, he thought, he was sure of it.

"You remember me?" Selene said with the twin notes of hate and longing clear in her voice even as Luna, despite herself, felt a surge of jealousy that was no doubt at least partially inspired by the power shifting restlessly beneath her feet.

"I remember who you were...not the twisted thing that you have become" spat Harry.

"Twisted?" Selene screamed before talking to herself as if no one else was there. "Twisted? He doesn't understand does he? No...he can't understand….just like the rest he is too afraid….Kill him? Yes…no.. I love him...I _need_ him".

As she began her rant Harry and Luna began to worry, truly worry, about what might be going on in Selene's head. Luna took this moment to slip her small hand, all unnoticed by the ranting woman, into Harry's and for a moment the burnt orange of his eyes seemed to dim slightly.

In the background Chime began to softly sing.

"How are you alive?" Luna asked having only the vaugest recollection of Harry's time with Selene though it was no more than fragments really after all of this time and if she was honest with herself she hadn't really wanted to remember it anyway.

"I was brave!" She hissed in reply with true and unrelenting hatred for the person standing in her way. "Yes...I was far braver than _you_ , more worthy than _you_ and much smarter than the Sith of old".

Something in those last few bitter words jogged Harry's memory as he thought of some of his early research on extending life. He had done it simply hoping that there was a better way to go about it than blood bags and clones.

A particular one popped into his head, one that he had dismissed, and his face blanched in horror as he looked at Selene.

"You didn't?" Harry gasped in disgust.

"What" said Luna turning to Harry only to pale herself first at the look on his face and then further at his answer.

"The Ritual of Restoration" stated Harry with a healthy dose of reproach and more than a little fear in his voice.

Luna gasped as her mind flittered to the details of the ritual and it's large side effects. The couple had after all come into possession of more Force related material than was in the entire Jedi Temple with the Great library being at least one hundred times larger than it and they had taken a large percentage of what was there.

They were therefore part of a very small group who understood not only what she had done but also how dangerous and twisted it actually was.

The details of how to perform the Ritual were less important than what it did. The Ancient Sith had designed it (and others like it) thousands and thousands of years ago and it was so long in fact that no one knew who actually made it.

Its upsides were very simple. At the cost of a certain number of sacrifices it would rejuvenate and restore any body to perfect health and add years to your life. As an added bonus, if you used Force Sensitives, you could add a portion of their own gift to your own.

It was also actually a very simple ceremony at that being able to be performed in less than an hour with very little equipment or pomp and ceremony.

And yet the Sith had banned it.

The reason that they had done so was quite simple. Like flash training someone could lead to psychosis (without occlumency to protect the mind) this ritual pretty much guaranteed it.

For every single mind that was drained pieces of their lives and their minds would be added to yours as a byproduct and when you took into account the fact that you would need multiple victims it was infinitely worse.

And that was even without adding the naturally corrupting effects of the Dark Side.

It had fallen out of favour as opposed to other methods mainly due to the fact that although the Sith respected power above almost all else the drawback quickly became debilitating.

Some insanity was useful to their cause but, for the ritual to provide centuries of life, it had to be used at least two dozen times.

Two dozen fragments of minds endlessly wailing their pain even as they imparted their knowledge and vitality would be enough to send even the most stable of people insane and the Sith were not particularly known for stability.

Added to that, if you didn't use Force Sensitives, you would not only get no power boost but have to do it even more. Many of the greatest Sith of the Ancient Empire had either turned to raving beasts or died in the search of more and more powerful sacrifices.

So the ritual had been banned and had languished, given up as a bad job even by the Sith Lords, until first Harry and through him Selene had found reference to it. She either thought in her pride that she knew better or simply that she was powerful enough to overcome the devastating side effects.

It could also have been that she simply couldn't get or afford the equipment needed for any other methods, didn't know of them or was simply too desperate to take the consequences of her actions into account.

Harry and Luna shared a look both wondering how much of the original Selene remained after all of this time and who knew how many rituals to survive.

Without warning a red lightsaber flew to Selene's hand as she jumped to the attack, performing skillful (if stilted) Juyo obviously seeking to kill Luna quickly and perhaps to enrage Harry beyond all reason.

Luna, for her part, could only stare sluggishly in her exhausted state as the blade came flying towards her only to be blocked just as swiftly by Harry's blue one. The crackled together like wood on a fire and as she stared at him in twisted longing he stared back at her in hatred.

Then the fight began in earnest.

Given that, of the two, Luna was the more worn out (as well as being the prime target) she was relegated to the role of spectator even though her lightsaber was lit and ready for action.

Chime, without being asked, hovered over Luna's head protectively with her wings outstretched almost as if Luna was her own hatchling and hissed angrily at Selene.

The madwoman for her part didn't even seem to notice.

Because of this Luna was witness to one of the finest and most furious lightsaber battles that she had ever seen.

Selene, using her form, was able to perform lightning fast and unpredictable attacks being further empowered by her centuries long fury and the darkness of this place to previously untouched skill levels.

It was as if she was a miniature cyclone of dark energy and power full of envy, hatred, anger and madness. Her features, when they could be seen, alternated between longing and lust even as her body would bend and twist away from the most vicious of blows.

Harry in contrast was almost the complete opposite, despite his eyes turning more and more amber once again, a solid wall of precision with an economy of motion that could only be achieved using Form II.

Where she expended energy he saved his. Where she attacked with fury he deflected or respond with surgical strikes. He became a wall of strength that the tornado could only smash itself against again and again.

His footwork was unhurried and perfect against her utter fury. More often all of his maneuvers, both defence and attack, were orchestrated by well timed twists and flicks of his wrist.

His footwork stopped her from ever managing to get a good shot at attacking Luna, as did Chime, and she was expending much more energy than he was.

Both combatants were firmly committed to the battle and though Harry was exhausted and had gone through several close calls he was uninjured for the moment. Selene for her part was cross crossed with light burns but they were only, for the moment at least, superficial.

Everything seemed to be going well for the couple until Luna realised that this was exactly Selene's plan. She wanted him to draw more and more on the reservoir of the Dark Side beneath his feet.

Fact one, Luna thought, trying to use logic to understand what Selene's endgame was, she knows enough about Harry to know that William Potter, Harry Potter and the Silver Prince are all the same person.

Fact two, her thoughts continued, it is logical to assume that given the information and the time that Selene had she had worked out what he had done with the Sith and (more importantly) what they had done to Harry.

Fact three she had an empty clone of Luna waiting and ready to go (or very nearly so) and she had chosen to confront him here in a place where he had confronted someone who had caused him so much pain with dark power _begging_ to be used beneath them.

All of these conclusions painted a very worrying picture for Luna.

Prince Harry of the Silver Commonwealth was a stable pillar of his society, a valued teacher and wise leader, loving husband and (under most circumstances) almost completely devoted to putting both her and the well being of others first.

In contrast the Harry Potter that had been manipulated by the Sith had historically been very open to coercion and very very malleable at least in theory and handled correctly. Selene obviously intended to coax out and take advantage of this perceived darkness.

She knew her husband better than anyone alive and so, with a mounting fear that was not helped at all by being in this place, she knew that even if done incorrectly it could work.

A dark future painted itself in her mind's eye. The Commonwealth restructured under a Dark Emperor who was feared and beloved. Her home would become a warlike mockery of what it once was starting with the mas execution of any resistance to the change over.

The Geo Forge, rather than helping in every aspect of life, would become purely a weapons factory arming a ravenous tide of Dark Jedi loyal only to the former Commonwealth and magically bound to their Dark Emperor and his Empress.

An Empress that wore Luna's face and directed the war to crush the Republic and expand their new Empire to all corners of the Galaxy.

Selene would use a copy of Luna's body to further corrupt and manipulate her husband using hatred and obsession instead of love turning him into a twisted, bitter and vicious parody of himself.

Just as Selene herself had become.

Morality aside she had to admit that it was an audacious and ambitious plan that if done correctly (and using Harry's grief over Luna's death) could work for a while.

They of course would end up trying to kill each other in the end but, no matter who won, by that point everything she ever loved about her life and her husband would be long gone….lost to a true monster.

As she watched the almost hypnotic battle, which was only enhanced by clash of the two lightsabers, she realised that she had to stop this before Harry (in his emotional and vulnerable state) called upon more of the darkness and fell to it before her very eyes.

It would be a tragedy of epic proportions if, even if he won, with her death Selene created the very monster she was hoping for.

Desperately hoping that enough of the toxin had left her system she gathered her courage and prepared to do something that, in her shoes, Harry wouldn't hesitate to do to try to save her.

Which was another way of saying doing something monumentally stupid and dangerous.

In the next lull of battle she spoke a Word of Power. These words were remnants of a language that was lost long before Atlantis had reached its height (they may have even been used to craft the island from the ocean).

Even at its height they were rarely used as magic always required a balance.

With Lupin's increased power it required the willing and evil act of basically turning living beings into tortured batteries and consigning them to a living death. In Voldemort's willing murder and the destruction of any afterlife and in Dumbledore's the binding of a creature of light.

Nothing was free and the Words hadn't been uttered in combat since the island fell. She feared the consequence of using this word more than she feared almost anything else as it was messing with the very fabric of the universe on an unknown scale.

There was no way that she could predict the full ramifications of what she was about to do or what that, in turn, would mean for the universe and the course of peoples lives when she was done.

Ordinarily she would never do such a thing simply for fear of that let alone the possibility of her own death. She did however fear losing her husband more than any of that.

All the Words were an abject lesson, aside from being powerful, that just because you can do something it doesn't mean that you should and today she was ignoring it for the man she loved.

As she spoke the Word it came out of her mouth like a harsh croak as if the universe itself was objecting to its existence.

All three felt their bones rattle with the strength of the power that was released and the fight paused as the two turned to stare at Luna incredulously.

There was a high whistling sound that appeared to come from everywhere and nowhere and the pain that all three felt as they dropped their weapons seemed to be enough to shake Harry free of the dark hold this place had on him for now.

Above her Chime screamed in fear even as Harry's wide eyes locked with Luna's fearful ones and she somehow managed to smile a bittersweet and loving grin at him even as they waited for the world to change.

Then, in an instant, it did.

In a blinding flash of light that stung the married couples eyes Selene, who had been mad and planned so carefully despite all that, turned into a tree before their eyes with her topmost branches scraping the high ceiling.

Luna half staggered and half fell into Harry's waiting arms already succumbing to exhaustion but, hopefully, not death.

"That Word" asked Harry desperately "...what was the price?"

"So sleepy" murmured Luna even as Harry summoned their weapons with the Force and picked her up bridal style.

"What was the price?" he repeated urgently.

"Tree...human….human...tree" she managed to mumble out even as she fell unconscious.

"A tree somewhere on this planet is human?" Harry asked Luna before realising that he would get no response.

Despite the gravity of the situation that he found himself in Harry couldn't help but laugh at the absurd image of some poor grower being scared beyond measure as some tree somewhere on the planet suddenly turned human before their very eyes.

Having plucked the knowledge of its existence from the temporarily vulnerable (and very sleepy) Luna's head Harry asked Chime to destroy the clone in the building which she did with a flash of fire before returning to her bonded side.

"Come on Chime" stated Harry even as the bird began to sing once again "let's go home".

Strangely enough the remaining mercenaries (those that were in the compound anyway) had no desire to deal with the Silver Prince, a pissed of bird made of flame, or anything else for that matter when they realised their employer was dead.

They were too busy looting the place as soon as it was clear Harry Potter wouldn't stand in their way.

With that the faithful companion led her bonded and his mate out, first to a hospital in Bespin proper and then eventually home.

 _A/N2 : Someone gets a digital cookie and hypothetical milk if they can tell me where I got the idea (read stole!) for both the Words of Power and the tree from._


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30: Revolution, Politics and the Beginning of Discontent (Part 1)

 _A/N: First well done to those that correctly guessed that the tree thing was from Tamora Pierce's Immortals series...as a side note she has finally returned to it with the first book of a trilogy on Arram Drapers early years. Digital cookies and milk go to Stallion of TX, Dublinchaos, Willboon, Mordraka (hpfan), Lady Shinagami, Arthur Hawkwing1 and Tangyman._

 _A/N2: The two reasons that this chapter is late are that my aunt died of liver desease recently...and my brother has it though no where near as advanced so he's on a watchlist. The final reason is that my wife (and beta) is now pregnant with our first child...so writing up (I have almost everything handwritten) has taken a backseat though it will be finished I promise.  
_

50BBY

3,603 ATC

Arkania

Dolo Harta was at her wits end as she paced back and forth in her office and looked out of her window onto the arctic plains of this desolate part of her homeworld and knew, deep in her bones, that she hated the view that she was seeing.

It was not that the view was bad per say as it was one of the few pieces of her homeworld not touched by a great amount of industrialization. Though it was beautiful in its own way she missed her creature comforts and her former office as well as her sumptuous bathtub.

What she missed most of all though, strangely enough, was the view of the world's capital sprawling below her.

However much she missed it though her and her group could not have survived in the city as they were both hunted as renegades and far too outnumbered by those in power. Which was why they had chosen the most unlikely place to hide and regroup.

They had made a few good first steps even taking the name that the government had saddled them with and embracing it as their own. The Arkanian Renegades may be new but their ideas were not and they revelled in the unity of purpose they shared against all odds.

The ideas they espoused all came back to the Dominion (their government and ruling body) and its treatment of the lesser species of another planet named the Yaka.

Arkanians believed themselves to be the pinnacle of evolution and were more than a little arrogant because of it and though, as an Arkanian herself, she honestly did agree with that it didn't mean that she agreed with what the government had been doing.

Yesterday it had come to a head. Plans long set in place for just such a thing were put in place that drew the formerly spread out like minded people together here as she, as one of their spokespeople, had issued an ultimatum to the Dominion.

They never thought that, coming from one Arkanian to another, the Dominion would refuse and that was where their problems had truly begun.

They were branded traitors and, in her own mind at least, she had thanked those that were once considered too pessimistic and paranoid among the Renegades for creating this backup plan and saving all their lives as they were branded insurrectionists and a price was on every head with many hunting them.

It wasn't supposed to be like this, she thought, they were supposed to realise that they were wrong and fix the problem. Though I doubt we would ever have been liked for pointing it out none of us wanted this. None of us wanted to be insurrectionists or hunted by the people that we had served for so long.

Still they were and, worse than that, they had no army where the Dominion had the Iron Guard. The Guard was a mercenary unit (after all what self respecting Arkanian would lower themselves to fight if they didn't have to) that doubled as both a personal guard for the most esteemed members of their race and as an unyielding police force.

They had even undergone the most painful and comprehensive genetic manipulation that the scientific race they served could come up with as well as willingly enhancing that further with more advanced and experimental cybernetic enhancements than the Yaka could ever have dreamed of.

With over sixty thousand of them the planetary force was a daunting challenge to say the least.

She had personally witnessed their version of justice being done more than once and it made her sick now to remember that these enhanced beings had managed to tear through forces three times a number and that those they thought were often prepared for them provided her absolutely no comfort as they always seem to win anyway.

It was hardly surprising that they did so or that they hadn't lost since the enhancements began as her people were not only some of the greatest scientific minds in the galaxy but also by far the best at cybernetic enhancement if not genetic manipulation.

And now, in trying to remove the stain that was the mistreatment of the Yaka, they were coming for her and everyone like her.

Her people had found the Yaka a few hundred years ago and finding them simple as well as altogether far too primitive had sought to 'benevolently improve' them regardless of their own wishes.

They had continued to do that to the present day regardless of the fact that it had (at the very least) begun without the Yaka's consent but also had detrimental and far-reaching effects on their emotional growth as well as leaving them with a darkly wicked sense of humour though they were by far the lightest side effects recorded.

The reason that she was pacing and at her wits end was that regardless the Renegades, who wanted their own government to stop the ongoing experimentation and exploitation, were debating doing something similar given the threat that they faced.

The Renegades were considering creating a giant cybernetic army of their own from the dead of other species and, given the dire situation, the call for that workable solution was gaining traction very quickly.

Doing that would not only violate the very spirit of their argument but, in her opinion, make them little better if not worse than the Dominion itself. That being said there would be no cause to fight for if they all died.

To make matters more terrible they didn't (as scientists by and large) have the same amount of money or prestige as the Dominion did so appealing to their own people or the Republic for that matter would have been worse than useless especially given how easily both could provide information to their enemy.

That was when a rather interesting thought struck her and she stopped pacing and instead swiftly headed towards her communications terminal.

The enemy of my enemy is my friend, she thought, and though the Silver Commonwealth was not technically an enemy and in recent history tended to stay within their own borders more often than not they were rivals in many scientific areas of study even if all they knew (as far as the Arkanians were concerned) was theoretical.

She knew that she wasn't the only one thinking of 'outsourcing' and like most she had no idea beyond rumor of the economics of the Commonwealth.

What she did know was that, from their contracts with the Republic alone, they were immensely wealthy and if another plan was going to work the Renegades needed something that wouldn't strain their almost nonexistent coffers.

Besides the face of the cyborg army Ardad Dayall had already sought out outside help in the form of a Coruscantii doctor named Cestus. She hated both men, the first because he was a ruthless bastard in the truest sense of the word and the second because he was not only an unknown but from the audio she had heard (she had actually never seen Cestus's face nor had anyone she had ever talked to).

The thrice cursed doctor even had a line of transport direct to the Renegades waiting and ready to be used for the macabre plan and, morals aside, it might work as the more the early cyborgs killed the more their army could grow.

She needed something equally as powerful and so, fingers moving like lightning, she made a call hoping against hope that they would help.

-LAFA-

Some days, Harry thought, I really hate being the Silver Prince.

Harry was seated on a simple chair with his wife on another one on his right side and a third holding Dobby, in his official capacity as the Grandmaster of the Silver Knights, to his left.

There was no adornment to these pieces as there was nothing to celebrate today. They wore no finery and no jewels other than the circlets on the heads of the royal couple. The square they faced, usually used for the training of their Knights was cleared of all equipment and the bare earth seemed to stare back at the hard faces sitting on those chairs.

Harry glanced worriedly at Luna out of the corner of his eye. Though he knew that she was fully healed and was both safe and sound he still worried about her and he couldn't shake the image of her being tortured by Selene. In response to that he found that his desire to protect her had grown even more.

He had also increased his training in both the arts of the Force and of magic feeling that he had grown soft over the years and knowing that those skills were clearly not only still needed but would be vital in the dark times that were bound to come.

Turning his attention back to the square in front of him he steeled himself before looking at the assembled Knights and Padawans standing in lines below him. He had a distasteful but necessary duty to perform and Harry knew that his mind would need to be sharp for it.

The Knights and the Padawans were formed up into neat lines comprising three sides of an open square with the fourth side being formed by Harry's group on a slightly raised dias.

From the looks of their superiors faces those below could have figured out that it was not going to be a pleasant meeting even if they hadn't already known why they were here. All it would have taken was one look at their faces as Harry's was resigned, Luna's disappointed and deeply sad or Dobby's with his jaw clamped tightly shut and eyes hardened in anger.

All of those faces were focused on the man that was bound and guarded in the center of the square and slowly every single eye fluctuated between watching that man and the face of the Silver Prince that stared down upon him.

Zayne Williams was, until very recently, considered to be a very promising Knight of the Silver.

He had been one of the finest combat specialists of the newest generation of seasoned knights and was considered to be a fine role model for all padawans aspiring to knighthood. The youthful knight had drawn so many that his image was even being put on posters advertising the life of service at one point.

His fall from grace had confused many then as it was spectacular in its swiftness and the Commonwealth's response was equally quick.

They must all learn that there are no favourites, thought Harry as he once again eyed his pregnant wife (who was only two months along), and not only must they always be true to their oath but that we are watching. I don't like that it is necessary though.

"Does the convicted have anything to say for himself?" Asked Dobby bringing Harry back from his thoughts and focusing him fully on the here and now..

"I am _only_ here because I upset your precious Order" spat the man hatefully. "If I wasn't so talented you wouldn't have felt so threatened. If I wasn't the _best_ of your knig-".

With a look and a mere whisper of his magical power Harry stilled the man's tongue and gave him a disdainful look for good measure.

"The Knights of the Silver" began Harry slowly "were created to maintain the balance and above all protect the people. Every single person here knows that as it is the first and perhaps hardest lesson you learn. They are not here to serve you and that is one of the reasons variations of the point are mentioned so frequently throughout the _Knights Way_. We serve the people first and foremost and that is why the Knights own nothing beyond their armour and their lightsabers...so that they remember that it is not things or wealth that they protect at all costs but the _people_ ".

Harry paused in his speech to take a sip of water from a glass that Luna handed to him and, as he looked at her, his eyes momentarily softened before he returned back to his task.

"You" Harry continued "are held to a higher standard because of this, you are pushed further and driven harder because you are to always be their shield. You know all of this and you have known it since you chose this life of service and took an oath to that effect. It is not an easy life but it is the life you chose when you did".

Now Harry studied the man before him with a sort of resigned detachment much like a bin man studies a mess on the street that he will have to pick up.

"All of the knights here understand this and they also understand why it is so important and every padawan who passes their trials will make the same oath. _This man here broke that oath_."

Harry stared at his now rapt audience and spoke softly drawing his audience further in but loud enough still to be heard. "He did not do so for faith or belief that there was a better way. He did not do so because he misunderstood. He did so simply because he wished to gather wealth...he did so to turn a profit. More than that, when he was confronted and requested to explain himself, he injured three of his fellow knights and did so in a way that it was clear he intended to kill them".

Harry finally turned back to the furious, but still silent, man and his entire countenance became cold and unyielding. "Knight Williams you have been found guilty of heinous crimes and your actions as well as the motivations behind them have been verified by three separate truth serums. To be utterly sure we then further verified this by the Commonwealth Intelligence Service".

His voice now took on a tone of finality as he spoke words that all the Knights feared. "You have dishonoured the Knights of the Silver and are unworthy of your armour".

As Harry finished speaking the armour that Zayne wore, that every knight relied on every day of their lives, turned to dust before everyone's eyes and blew away in the soft light wind. The changes to the man's equipment was not to stop with the man's armour though.

"Zayne" said Harry looking at the weapon that was loosely attached by a cord to the man's calf (though properly deactivated) and with a sharp tone of command in his voice. "Your lightsaber is broken".

The lightsaber broke with a sharp crack further breaking in the air as it fell as if the normally innocuous gas was actually a corrosive acid. No pieces that hit the ground were larger than a fingernail with only the powerpack and focusing crystal being spared.

They hit the floor with a sad soft sound.

"You said that you were here only because you were a Knight of the Silver and you were right but _not_ for the reasons that you so clearly believe. If you were an ordinary citizen you _might_ be imprisoned and reeducated for several years...if you were in the Republic reeducation or the loss of your gift and banishment would be appropriate. You are not and we are not. You are not an ordinary citizen however and we do not leave bitter men to raise hatred against us nor do we allow killers, even attempted ones, to go free."

Harry voice turn grave and bleak as he reached the point of his speech. "You were placed in a position of trust which you abused and then tried to _murder_ to cover it up. Given both of those facts there is only one course of action that we may take. May the Force have mercy on you because you will find none here".

He then nodded to the guards holding Zayne and they threw him to the floor before the man could even begin to protest. Force Lightning spewed from Dobby, Harry and Luna as the other Knights and Padawans looked on, some in resolve and others in horror, even as one or two were violently sick.

The lightning engulfed the man and he began to scream and cry. To those on the dias his voice was so loud that it might have been next to their ear but the charms on it were designed that way. This then was their price for allowing this to happen not only killing the man but hearing his screams almost as if they were their own and carrying that for the rest of their days.

All things balance eventually, thought Harry, but the balance is never kind.

The guards that had held him were from his own Chapterhouse for the same reason. All the gathered knights and their padawans watched wide eyed as the man many had admired and some had aspired to be died.

Not a word was spoken.

"He betrayed his oath, his people and you. So die all traitors". Harry's voice was strong, unyielding and cold booming across the square.

"So die all traitors" the entire square echoed.

Though the entire square saw Harry's rigid face only those around him were close enough to sense his sadness over the fact that such things (though very rare) were necessary as his iron control over his aura slipped for a moment.

Harry had been asked but refused to allow anyone else to do the grizzly duty other than him and though Luna had convinced him to share it she knew that the rare knights that fell in such ways felt like his own failures.

Besides the Jedi got in trouble for not addressing issues such as this harshly enough and the Sith either for their overreaction or apathy, thought Harry, but these are my people and I _must_ be responsible.

The balance of the Force, the balance of life, demanded no less.

-LAFA-

Later that day, after the Knights of the Silver had been released back to their duties, Harry and Luna were sitting in their private living quarters sipping on already cooling and soothing tea. While they did not speak they took comfort, as always, in each others presence.

Though neither mentioned it both of them felt the weight of what they had done that day, necessary thought it was, and took a moment of quiet to gather themselves and together find equilibrium.

Their quiet reflection was interrupted by a knock at their door and the entrance of their household droid GE-32 carrying a portable holocommunicator.

"Excuse me my Lord and Lady" said the droid in its synthesized voice breaking the hard won peace that they had found.

"Yes GE?" Harry questioned softly.

"There is an urgent call for you from a Doctor Dolo Harta of Arkania".

"What does she want?" Harry asked "The Commonwealth has no interests in Arkania do they love?"

"Nothing direct Harry though our R&D department often references their published works as a starting point. If you get past their intrinsic arrogance then their work is quite interesting" stated Luna.

"Ever the Ravenclaw" said Harry smiling gently.

"Always and forever" she agreed smiling back.

"Well" said Harry "lets see what she wants".

GE-32 quickly tapped the communicator after placing it on the small coffee table that was between the couple and quietly left.

When the image softly came to life the first thing that the married couple noted to themselves (and with a knowing glance to each other) the bank grey rock wall behind the woman.

It was very telling because anyone that was aware of their species mindset (and they weren't exactly shy about showing it) was aware of how far above they placed their species and often themselves personally as opposed to everyone else in the galaxy.

No Arkanian with any other choice would show less than the best image when dealing with outsiders and that included all the things that the blank wall they were seeing lacked. They surrounded themselves with the trappings of beauty and power almost as easily as they breathed.

The rest of the galaxy was often quite offended, not that they tended to notice, by the arrogant race and as a direct result the galaxy often compared them insultingly to the Hutts.

Though it was meant as derogatory the two peoples mindset was similar in that they both believed their race was perfect but where the Hutts focused generally on cunning, backstabbing and crime the Arkanians focused more on science and intellectual pursuits.

"Prince Harry...Princess Luna. Thank you for taking my call" the Doctor said.

"What business does the Dominion wish with the Commonwealth?" Harry, as was his usual manner, was blunt and to the point.

"As little as possible I'd imagine" she replied just as direct. "Until a month ago I was a senior member of the Fourteenth Science Council until my doubts about the work crystalised and I quit. In truth I would have been fired by now anyway for being part of a radical element".

"What kind of radical elements?" Luna asked curiously.

"Moral scientists and other fringe groups like us that are pushing for a discontinuation of the experimentation on the Yaka amongst other things" she replied.

"A worthy goal" Harry observed even as Luna nodded her own agreement to the idea of at least _some_ morals and or ethics.

"Thank you. I am now one of the three chief leaders of what is being called the Arkanian Renegades but we barely have had the time to organise let alone form a military arm to stand against the Iron Fist" stated Doctor Harta.

"And you would like our help with that particular problem by us forming that arm?" Asked Luna before she quickly settled into a light trance allowing Harry to continue to conversation with her mind elsewhere.

They had done this many times and the double act of Harry asking pointed questions while Luna meditated in the Force for guidance and inspiration. Given the fact that the Commonwealth was thriving and, especially in its early days, it had been statistically unlikely to it was clearly effective.

"If you can I would. Do you have the capability?" Harta asked.

"We do but...not to be insensitive to your plight but why should we help especially in what is shaping up to be a civil war in _Republic_ space?"

"Because the only other option that we have is worse than anything that I could have dreamed of. One of the other leaders is pushing the idea to create an army from cybernetic implants and corpses and that is something that no one wants to happen...the Iron Guard is bad enough. Added to that, if you help us, not only will we stop experimenting on the Yaka but we will happily share our restricted and unreleased research with you".

"Not good enough" said Harry "besides the Senate will become...irate….at a what is essentially a foreign power interfering in the local politics of one of its member worlds".

"An issue I am sure that you could bypass or somehow get around" stated Doctor Harta.

" _If_ we wanted to" agreed Harry about to end the call as well when Luna finished her communion with the Force and turned to him.

"We have to help them" Luna interjected " there is something… a task there that could help us greatly".

"A vision?" Harry whispered.

"More like a heavy nudge" she whispered back.

"Fine" answered Harry more loudly even as Dolo Harta sighed in relief. "Don't look so relieved my dear Doctor. The Silver Knights and our other unique military units will not take an active role in your war. I will however send you the First Field Army for the price of one single credit on an open ended loan for the duration of your conflict. That's 300,000 Hp-65's all enhanced with the latest in modular technology. They should be very adaptable and enable you to have more than a fighting chance as they can easily be rocket troops, skirmishers,snipers, infantry or pilots to name just a few".

"But what about escalation?" Dolo asked. "The proponents for the cyborg army already have an off world doctor who is very eager to get involved in our affairs. What if the Dominion turns to someone like him, one of the fringe Force Sensitive cults out in the unknown or manages to convince the Senate to help?"

" _If_ escalation happens" said Luna firmly "we will match whatever they throw at you even with the Knights of the Silver if we must"

"Who will command the troops" Dolo asked looking at Harry hopefully.

"Until there are Force Users involved and present on the battlefield you will. If that variable changes I will happily take command" stated Harry.

"I will accompany the First" said Luna "though strictly as an observer and to make sure that our investment is well taken care of and to supervise repairs".

Also, Harry thought, so no enterprising Renegade tries to steal proprietary technology as well as having one of us on hand for when it goes bad...which it will.

After a few pleasantries, but nothing of substance, the Doctor ended the call only now more hopeful and waiting for the encoded data burst that would outline the logistics of deployment which would arrive later that day.

"Are you sure about this my love?" Harry asked worried for both his wife and his unborn children.

"Of course Harry. It's where I am supposed to be". The complete certainty of her reply, if only slightly, soothed his as it reminded him of their younger days and discussing animals only she could see.

"The First should begin to arrive within a week" Harry paused and then half asked "I thought to hide them in medical crates so that they still had the element of surprise"

"Sounds good to me" Luna readily agreed while catching the pensive look on Harry's face out of the corner of her eye.

Turning fully towards him and, knowing what her husband was thinking, shook her head softly while gently reaching out and cupping his cheek.

"I know you want to go with me but you can't…it's going to be a very delicate situation at least at the start" she said soothingly.

"And I'm more of a sledgehammer and less of a scalpel?" Harry asked with a small trace of humour.

"Well..sometimes" Luna replied while smiling. " But that was not my point really. It was more the idea that having both of us there could push the Republic into acting earlier than they might otherwise and empower our enemies in the Senate".

"Besides it helps me.." began Harry.

"So that when escalation _does_ happen you can be ready with a mixed group of Knights and droids to rush to our rescue...all broadcast on the holonet of course" she said finishing his thought for him.

"If escalation is going to happen anyway can't I even appear sporadically to 'check' on my wife?" Harry asked knowing already that he shouldn't.

"I would love it but you know you can't" she said while sliding into his lap. "We cannot appear to be aggressors in this. It _must_ be a clear cut business deal and if we were both there that excuse wouldn't hold water. If only one of us goes then it can easily be explained as protecting our property".

"We still have to ratify the deal that we've made with the Royal Council" Harry warned.

"I know...but with how amoral the scientific practices of the Dominion are you don't really see them saying no do you?" She asked while snuggling down onto her husbands chest while breathing in his unique musky scent as she did so.

"No" he said uneasily while kissing the top of her head and wrapping his arms around her. "I don't think they will and that is one of the things that worries me. It always seems that we are fighting someone somewhere or preparing to".

"That is unfortunately the nature of the universe my love" Luna commented sadly "everyone is fighting for something one way or another".

Both wished that it wasn't that way, that force would count for less than reason, but how to make the universe that way escaped them both. There really was no good answer, thought Harry, and we just have to cherish the small moments of calm that we can get.

For a long time after that though both were silent and Harry just held his wife tighter.

-LAFA-

Six months later the Senate was in an uproar once again as the Civil War on Arkania (that had been going on for months) had finally been 'brought' to their attention.

It would have been more accurate to say bought however as, behind the scenes in these halls of power, the Dominion had been buying Senators left and right and almost incidentally bankrupting themselves as the Commonwealth's own efforts were enough to both slow them down and make them pay much much more than they would like.

They did though and the primary reason for that was that the war was not going as they had projected in the slightest.

Though their Iron Guard could take out two droids for every member lost the droids could be repaired or replaced in days, two weeks at the most, while the Iron Guard took months for a new recruit to be ready with the process sometimes lasting a year.

They had also lost all but the final four of their spaceports and instead of the easy victory that they had been expecting they were now fighting for their survival. The Renegades, with the help of their ally the Silver Commonwealth, had pushed them to extremes.

They had spent money they didn't have, made promises they could barely keep just to try and contain the wildfire that they themselves had created. They were a far cry from what they once were.

Technically a Civil War was destabilising to the local region but hardly the business of the Senate but those bought and paid for Senators insinuated that if it could happen there it could happen anywhere.

Two political sides had formed in the illustrious halls of the Senate. The first side was leading the charge against the Renegades and was lead by Trey Mar (a Neimoidian who was speaking both on behalf of the so called Intervention Movement and his Sector as well as the Trade Federation) and the other was lead by Kyp Organa who was the Senator for Onderon as well as the brother of the famous ambassador and diplomat Jandray on the other.

As was usual for the bickering Republic their 'debate' had gone on for quite some time and was not only heavily interspersed with insults and insinuation but the most fun their ambitious fellows had seen in quite some time.

"Tell me again _exactly_ why this august body should interfere in such a delicate and internal matter as a civil war? Are we to interfere in every single internal matter of each member world now?" Senator Organa in a calm measured tone that was both politely cultured as well as conveying his sarcasm and his skepticism.

"Precisely because with the intervention of the so called Silver Commonwealth it is _not_ an internal dispute, if it ever was, and is now a full blown insurrection supported by a foreign power". Trey Mor replied who, unlike his counterpart, was neither calm nor cultered and instead appeared very angry and animated each word with wild gestures of his hands.

"I don't think that you can call the Commonwealth a so called anything. They do have over three thousand member worlds full of relatively happy citizens after all" Organa interjected mildly.

"And that doesn't concern you at all given that they were only founded around sixty years ago? What about the fact that they have rogue Force Users and at _least_ three hundred thousand droids that they sent to aid this...unsanctioned insurrection" spat Trey Mor.

"As well you know" Organa began defensively " those droids were loaned as part of a business deal…"

"For one single credit" snarked Mor dismissively.

"So you are a master businessman as well as being an oh so glorious and astute member of this body?" Organa said snidely. "Regardless it was a business deal that the Republic has no right to interfere with. Tell me is the number of droids really your concern or is it the fact that your _illustrious_ and not in anyway corrupt 'friends' the Trade Federation have explotive deals with both the Dominion and their pet Yaka? Or would they prefer to be exploiting the Renegades as well and are simply sore that they didn't make a deal with them first?"

"How dare you imply that all I want to do is line my own pockets! They are a threat to the stability of the whole Republic. At this moment they may only have three thousand worlds but our analysts predict that they are about to enter another expansion phase and it will be far far larger than any we have seen before".

"Perhaps" stated Organa "you should worry less about what they are doing and more about where some of the people for the expansion are coming from? Is it any wonder that they grow so rapidly given the treatment of some by corporate monoliths like the Trade Federation?" Organa argued thinking that he was too old for this and was very glad his son would be taking his seat within a few months.

"That is slanderous!" growled Mar.

"But not actually false" said Organa smugly. "Besides no matter how much they grow I highly doubt that even a collection of worlds three times their current number would ever threaten the stability of a Republic that has not only stood for around 25,000 years and has over 1.3 million worlds".

"And yet" rebutted Mar reminding everyone of the threat he wished to present "they have over three hundred thousand droids that they can simply loan out? This so called First Army…. How many armies do they have I wonder?"

"It's just a name...perhaps it is simply the first that they created" argued Organa.

"You don't know that" seethed Mar

"And neither do you" came the quick and biting response as Organa's temper started to fray.

"Lest we forget that it was, when in its infancy and before being called the Commonwealth, Potter Industries that brought the Republic to its knees for decades" Mar's face was the artistic picture of sorrow with his last words.

"Stop editing history to suit your own narrative" said Organa dismissively. "The Great Collapse was brought about by the _Republic_ not anyone else and steps have been taken so that such a thing will not happen again".

The watching Senators leaned in almost hypnotised by the spectacle before them as though Mar was angry so too now was the normally unflappable Organa.

They stayed silent though as they began to sense both parties thoughts faltering and they waited with baited breath for one to mistake or falter as their opponent would then capitalize on the slip.

"Really" said Mar in mock surprise "almost 30% of the gas that is used in blasters are currently bought from the Commonwealth…"

"Only because they beat you and your friends out of the contracts" interrupted Organa.

"But that's not all is it? There are also the precious stones, rare metals, speeders and ships that the Republic buy from them" continued Mar almost as if the interruption hadn't happened. "How much more wealth and influence is the Republic going to allow a foreign power? How many Force Users not under our watchful gaze can we allow in our borders?"

"There are no Force Users involved in the conflict" argued Organa.

"Luna Potter is there" disagreed Mar.

" _Princess_ Potter is there only as an observer to protect the Commonwealth property that is on loan" Organa ground out through clenched teeth. "You speak of the Commonwealth as if it is our enemy".

"It is certainly not a friend" Mar shot back.

"And the Trade Federation is?" Organa spat back just as quickly resulting in sputtering from Mar and the quiet chuckling of many nearby Senators.

"I have had enough of your baseless accusations against the Trade Federations honour. They are a legitimate group made up of citizens of this glorious Republic where the Commonwealth is not!" Mar's reply was vicious and designed to put Organa off balance with the simple ferocity of it. "Besides aren't you biased towards the Commonwealth yourself? It _was_ your brother who negotiated most of their deals was it not?"

It might not have worked when they began the debate but now, after everything, it seemed to be having an impact.

"It may be strange for some of us to think but with all the problems that the Potter family has had with _certain_ members they are short on trust".

Organa looked critically and pointedly at Mar as he said this as he was clearly referring to not only the troubles that the Potter's had with the Republic in general but recent bidding wars and no so subtle threats from the Trade Federation. "I for one could _never_ understand why given such honourable and esteemed members such as yourself".

"You make my point for me" Mar commented while smiling smugly. "The Commonwealth is distrustful of the Republic and with that many droids at their disposal now who knows how many they will have in the future. Can our Sector Security Forces repel even that many right now without several long drawn out fights not to mention the loss of infrastructure that would be lost in the meantime?"

A chorus of voices agreed with Mar and Senator Kalpana signalled that he wished to speak and as soon as the Supreme Chancellor signalled that the human male was allowed to speak, with a conflicted look the man did so.

"As much as I respect Senator Organa and believe that the Commonwealth means us no harm I do believe that we must have more information about the situation on Arkania".

"Agreed" said Mar quickly. "We must prepare for any possible threat _and_ protect our citizens as well as our most critical infrastructure. That means helping the Dominion as they are a known stable quantity that can maintain the status quo. We could even _possibly_ negotiate a new deal with either the Commonwealth...or some other trade organisation".

"Someone like the Trade Federation you mean?" Organa snarked shrewdly.

The debate devolved from there and began to involve many more Senators on both sides of the argument. There were many snide comments on ancestry, patronage and the honour of both the Senators themselves as well as main veiled references to back room deals.

From his seat on the outer edges, not getting involved in the political fray, Senator Palpatine (also secretly known as the Sith Palpatine as well as apprentice to Darth Plagueis) smiled softly.

Despite the deals in place for plasma on Theed that Naboo had with the Trade Federation he was still seen as relatively young and inexperienced Senator from a backwater planet. It would not only draw unnecessary attention to him if he were to join the debate but it would also do no good.

Still, he thought, my supposed neutrality does come in handy as well as the fact that my bought and paid for puppets are doing their job well.

It enabled him to, among other things, move suspicion away from him as did his newest alias of Doctor Cestus.

He found it amusing to make the Senate dance under his delicate web of greed and influence while he portrayed the kind, humble and innocent Senator. Through all of this he knew that the Sith Grand Plan was building and beginning to reach its conclusion even now.

He had even managed to smile and fake compassion as he cultivated friendships with several Jedi including two Jedi Masters though Yoda remained both elusive and as distrustful of politicians as ever.

In truth neither he or his master actually cared who won the conflict in Arkania. His original plan as the good Doctor Cestus was to help the Renegades make a cyborg army and maneuver the Jedi into the conflict which would test both the cyborgs and weaken the Jedi politically.

It should have even killed a fair few too.

The Senate as well as the general public would also become more afraid of anything droid like in general and that would help inspire a deep hatred that he could use to great effect when the time came.

As he thought about it though he realised that Commonwealth droids would serve that purpose just as well in the end. He could see it now in his mind's eye and almost grinned as he imagined the horrified expressions of the Senate and the Republic's citizens as they saw the 'heartless' droids shooting the 'poor innocent Arkanians'.

He daydreamed about drinking in the depths of their fear like others would drink a fine wine.

Snapping out of his thoughts he had to school his face to hide his complete glee at how things had progressed.

The Republic would be sending no troops but they would authorise the dispatch of a small team of Jedi to negotiate with the Renegades and to take over the command if the situation turned violent. Doubtless the Dominion would somehow lay their hands on some Trade Federation droids to bolster their dwindling numbers as well.

He was happy that it was all going to plan and he knew, in his blackened heart, that he would soon be done with his _master_ once he had learned enough. He intended not just to be a Sith Lord but the last Sith Lord and master of the Republic as well.

-LAFA-

Less than a day later three Jedi were walking through the corridors of their Temple basking in the comforting and steady glow emanating from the Spire deep beneath their feet as well as the comforting presence of so many Jedi relaxing after a long day (all days were long in a Jedi's life) throughout their home.

The Jedi furthest to the left was also the youngest. Mace Windu had been a fully fledged Jedi Knight for less than a year but he was already making a name for himself and was a favourite of many masters in the Order.

Though he was very skilled when it came to the diplomacy and humanitarian works that the Jedi were known for he was also famous for his skill with a lightsaber. In fact he was trying something that hadn't been done in centuries.

Creating a new lightsaber form.

It may have seemed like a daunting task especially given his youth but he was barely into the planning stages at the moment and, besides that, he had the skills to back it up. He was already a master of Forms II and VII otherwise known as Juyo and he also made it clear that he intended to master them all as both Yoda and (if rumours were to be believed) the Never Master had done.

It helped that not only did he have advice and occasional personal instruction from both Master Dooku and Grandmaster Yoda but they had also allowed him limited access to the Great Holocron. This meant that he could watch and study from holo recordings from some of the greatest blademasters of the Order.

From Sunrider to Shan, Revan to Potter, any Knight or Master that had been given the honour to add their lightsaber skills to the Great Holocron was at his fingertips as he slowly planned his new form.

Many other Jedi thought that, in this time of peace, his quest to do so was either folly or a pleasant diversion. Mace did not know wether this period of peace would last through his lifetime but, even if it did, his new form could hopefully save Jedi lives in the future when it too was added to the Great Holocron.

The central figure was a beautiful and striking figure of indeterminate age who's family, much like the Shans before them, had a long history of giving many children over to the service of the Republic by allowing them to be taken as Jedi.

There had been members of her family in the Army of Light, fighting against Revan and Malak's Sith Empire and even one or two in the Cold War. She bore the proud but caring features of her ancestors well though (on her side at least) her family had intermarried with humans so much that only the faintest traces of a Zabrak lineage could be seen.

Her name was Kara Durvan and she was a Jedi Master.

The final member of their little troop was a living legend among the Jedi of this age. A being of vast knowledge, power and compassion that it seemed almost laughable that it was all contained in such a small frame. The walking stick that gently tapped the floor as he walked reminded them of both that fact and his great age however.

Grandmaster Yoda walked with his fellow Jedi but didn't look at them lost in thought as he was.

The only thing that had been discussed by the High Council that day had been the situation that was developing in Arkania. It was rare for only one item to be discussed but, even among Jedi, such a delicate issue proved divisive.

It didn't help that the High Council, often synonymous with wisdom and surety, couldn't agree with proponents for joining either side of the conflict.

As servants of the Republic they found any idea of rebellion inside it's borders repugnant to their very core let alone _armed_ rebellion.

That being said they knew what the Arkanian's had been doing to the Yaka as well as how they viewed other races in the galaxy and they also had a great reverence for the sanctity of life.

They were appalled by the infamous experiments the Dominion had been conducting especially given that it was done (in one scientists words) because they, quite simply, could.

That would be more than enough to keep the Council arguing all day but then there was also the Potters involvement adding a new complexity to the issue.

Apart from that their was also the fact that Jedi Master Aquinos was in the general area and had already sent a message stating that he had news that needed a representative of the Council to meet him at their first available opportunity.

Regardless of their unease with the entire situation or their justifiable arguments and concerns the Jedi were servants of the Republic and they had been asked to send a team so they would.

This was why Yoda was walking with the two Jedi, both leading contenders to go and deal with the mess that the Senate had dropped in their lap, and one of them would rendezvous with the eccentric Master Aquinos though Yoda was still uncertain about which one should go.

"Master" said Durvan "why are we walking with you?"

"The situation in Arkania, resolved it must be" replied Yoda smiling briefly at the perceptive woman while watching her face carefully as she digested both the news and the implications.

From the obvious changes in both her posture and her micro expressions he was right to do so.

The Durvan family as a whole still harboured bitter feelings towards the Commonwealth and the Potter family in particular. They considered the treatment of their Jedi Master ancestor both unfair and one of the largest crimes against the Jedi never to go punished.

It didn't help that former Jedi Master Alof Durvan had died in prison and it was all caused, according to their own family history, by William Potter.

Though the Jedi were _supposed_ to be free of any and all attachments especially to their original families that had not happened here. The Durvan's were not only very wealthy and influential in the Republic but also very large as a familial group.

This meant, unfortunately for Yoda, that there was always at least one involved in the Jedi Order (if not in the Order itself) since the time of William Potter that their version of events had not only been passed down the years but the dislike, bordering on hatred, for the Potter family had only grown.

It festered like a wound in their otherwise peaceful souls but, with the Commonwealth distant and largely keeping to themselves, it had not actually been a problem before now.

Jedi Master Durvan was clearly not immune to the weight of her family's history.

When she made the obvious connection between what they were discussing to the famous family she felt a deep and irrational hatred surge and she struggled to control it even with her years of training as a Jedi.

Control it she did, though with a supreme effort, as a good Jedi should but Yoda saw it all flickering like wisps of smoke across her face.

That family has taken so much, Durvan's mind concluded, but a Jedi's path is not one of vengeance no matter it is _deserved_ or what they have done to my family.

Through the long moments that it took her to bury those feelings, albeit thinly, in the mantra of the Jedi (she even muttered it under her breath not that she noticed even though the other two did), Yoda's judging eyes never left her face.

"What does the Council wish me to do?" Mace's voice was both youthful, strong and very calm. His measured tone, that was full of the surety of the Jedi, was a direct contrast to the struggle both men had seen in Jedi Master Durvan.

"Go, Knight Windu will...lead the contingent, he must" said Yoda slowly much to Durvan's chagrin.

"But Master Yoda! He has only been a knight for less than a year…" began Durvan, ignoring the fact that she as was only in her early thirties or late twenties was very young for even the temporary seat she occupied, who was renowned for her strategic mind.

"Too close to this you are" interrupted Yoda "clouded your mind is".

At Yoda's rebuke, far from being cowed, Kara felt the control on her feelings begin to buckle and her feeling of rage surged, a bitter and hot cloud in her gut, compounded by familial bias as well as revisionist history.

"The Silver Commonwealth _can not_ be trusted" she spat barely keeping the irrational fury from her voice. Her attempt was somewhat fruitless as both Jedi could sense her feelings swirling around her like a miniature tornado in the Force.

"The Commonwealth or the Potters Master?" Mace had been silent until now but his calm and level voice was like a stinging slap to the woman reminding her that control was paramount for any Jedi let alone a Jedi Master.

"Advice you have, on who to send with him, hmmm?" Yoda asked pointedly and neatly sidestepping her protest. He was also trying to avoid the delicate subject of the Potters until she was able to get herself more under control.

Durvan to her credit was grateful for the conversational side step even as she turned

"Padawan Squire Kinning is the only one that springs to my mind. She has had a few solo missions, works well with others and her master did mention that he believed that she was ready for the Trials? Perhaps this could count towards one of them? It would be a very good test for her. I would also recommend that, whoever is chosen, the group of Jedi be no less than five but no greater than twenty. Any more than that and we run the risk of being seen as forcing the conflict and warmongers before any work can be done".

"I know what I am about to suggest is unorthodox" added Windu "but what about sending some Antarian Rangers as well? They are much less threatening than the Jedi and could help us with any support we need as well as provide added protection".

"Hmm...a good thought that is" said Yoda as he prepared to break off and head to his own quarters. "Know the plan, you will, tomorrow".

"My emotional concerns aside we should be very careful of the Commonwealth" said Durvan making both men pause mid step.

Despite the fact that both men were clearly skeptical, as far as she was concerned, she had to get at least Yoda to understand and see her point.

"Do you mean" questioned Windu "because of the mixed feelings that the Order has about the mission?"

"No" she answered with certainty "we are servants of the Republic as is the Senate and we were asked to go. I am sure that, in this instance, they have a wider view of the situation than most and I trust that they have put the best interests of all of us at heart. I am actually more concerned by the fact that every single time the Order has been involved with the Commonwealth we have come off worse for it".

"Politicians, Jedi are not" stated Yoda warningly with a frown marring his ancient features for a small moment. Both of the Jedi saw the look and though Mace mirrored it with one of his own Kara ignored it which prompted Mace to speak.

"Surely you don't believe that the Commonwealth is a true threat to the Republic?" Mace's voice was incredulous at the very idea and Yoda simply waited clearly interested in her response.

"Check your history before you judge me" was her response. "Even discounting my personal feelings towards them the Potters have _always_ come out ahead in our dealings with them and they are the Commonwealth. If you want evidence of their power take the Hutt Cartel as an example...How many worlds do they control fifty thousand? Seventy?"

"Closer to one hundred thousand actually why?" Mace asked confused at the tangent she was taking the conversation down.

"The Hutts practice anything and everything that they desire and many of those the Republic despises. They are tiny compared to us and yet we have done nothing about it why?"

"Because" Mace responded frowning at the hypothetical idea of attacking the Hutts "the Jedi are not an army to be commanded. We are diplomats and keepers of the peace"..

"I didn't necessarily mean the Jedi" was her quick answer. "I meant the Republic as a whole. After all the Cartel has existed since before the Republic was founded and we did have a true army at one point to face the hoards of mercenaries that the Hutt's favour. Even now they could use the Sector Defence Forces as one but they don't. The reason for that is very simple".

Here she paused, weighing her next words, and then decided to continue as they studied her intently. "The reason that they don't is because they don't think that it is a battle that they can win without massive damage to itself and a great loss of life...not to mention the monetary cost".

"What" Mace asked while sharing a thoughtful look with Yoda "exactly is your point Master?"

"That if the Hutts, with a relatively weak infrastructure and impoverished people despite their size, subjugation would be difficult how difficult would it be for our beloved Republic to face an admittedly smaller but much richer Commonwealth? How many tricks do they have up their sleeve? How much money? How many Force Users and Spies?"

"No one knows as their screening for spies is unusually effective...as well you know" said Mace even as Yoda's face turned thoughtful at the ideas that she was placing inside his skull.

"And" said Durvan "that doesn't worry you?" She looked at Windu first who shrugged and then at Yoda's carefully blank face.

"Defensive the Commonwealth is" stated Yoda.

"He is right" added Windu "they don't attack unless they are threatened".

"And what about the Civil War on Arkania?" Kara pointed out.

"They were invited" stated Windu.

"And what if those policies change?" Durvan asked.

"They haven't since before the Commonwealth was founded" Mace reminded her "and it is not for the Jedi to decide or speculate on military matters".

Though Mace had made that point earlier he thought that, given the way she was talking, it bared repeating as did Yoda if his next words were anything to go by.

"Blinded on this you are. Dangerous have your thoughts become. Go, meditate you must, on what a Jedi is and is not hmmm?"

With a flinty look the Jedi Master swiftly nodded and left to do just that as, after all, she considered herself a good Jedi and servant of the Republic. No matter her personal feelings or worries she still trusted in the Grandmasters wisdom.

It didn't mean she had to like it.

"Troubling, her conclusions are" Yoda said to Mace even as she walked away towards her private rooms.

"Is she right Master?" Mace asked and was not reassured by Yoda's answer in the least.

"Difficult to see, the future is. A distraction for us such thoughts are" Yoda replied firmly.

"What should I do?"

"Go on this mission you must" Yoda reiterated. "Watch over the Jedi, my duty it is.".

With that the two Jedi both said their goodbyes and headed to their separate beds but neither noticed the late night cleaning droid that had heard their entire conversation though, if they had, they wouldn't have thought it odd as there was always at least one droid at work at all times somewhere.

They also didn't think of their own monitoring devices in the Temple itself as they believed them to be secure.

Even as the droid stopped its task and moved of to make its report (by way of an encrypted data burst) to one interested party another was watching the live feed with an intense look of speculation on his face.

The fact that the system provided no sound was not an obstacle to him as he had running highly illegal software to estimate and produce the sounds of the subjects voices based on their lip movements.

From his seat inside his office at the Senate Palpatine almost smiled as he watched the footage.

"Now this" he said softly to himself and his mouth finally forming a twisted version of what some people might call a smile and his eyes almost burning a sickly yellow "has possibilities".

-LAFA-

Legally the Commonwealth sold no droids to the Republic nor did any one new droid company in the Republic have the monopoly that was once enjoyed by Potter Industries though the Trade Federation did come closest to it.

What the Commonwealth did have, thanks in no small part to the now well developed and thriving spy network, were several companies under different aliases and holding companies that refurbished other droids. They also offered a service to reprogram them for domestic service as well.

All under the guise of citizens of the Republic with no trace of the Commonwealth's growing hand to be found.

Considering that the rich and powerful liked their money and all costs for droids that worked in public service areas came from the Senate's Discretionary Fund they found a market almost literally begging for them.

The less money that was spent on them meant more money in the expense accounts of each and every Senator.

The fact that there were several 'competing' companies not only meant that cost was low but that they could service many more droids than any one company could without drawing undue attention to itself.

They had, for the past fifteen years or so, been sending out those droids, all with hidden programming under a modified Notice-Me-Not's and runes keyed to the Royal Council, by the hundreds (at least at first) to every place in the Republic that required Senatorial funding.

The First places to take advantage of the generous prices and gain these new droids were the Senate itself and the Jedi Temple as both derived funding directly from the Discretionary Fund and were massive drains on it.

By this point both organisations were riddled with these discount droids and within an hour of the Jedi's walk to discuss the Arkanian situation the Commonwealth was aware of it and a half hour after that the Royal Council had met to discuss it.

Two hours after that Harry was supervising the _Silver Flame_ along with five escort ships for departure and found himself in the Hangar on Spero watching over the final loading of men and supplies as everything went through one final check.

When needed the Commonwealth moved not only swiftly but like clockwork.

That was where his Godfather found him and, as soon as there was a moment's peace for him to be heard, he approached his beloved Godson.

As much as he loved Harry (and he did just as if Harry was his own flesh and blood) Sirius was still enough of a marauder to try and tease and prank him.

"Sire" said Sirius barely hiding his smirk.

" _Revered_ Deputy Headmaster" Harry shot back without missing a beat.

Why that cheeky little shit, thought Sirius, I'm so proud.

"Harry" Sirius began again.

"Godfather...you wanted to talk to me about something important I take it?" Harry asked.

"How can you tell?" the man asked legitimately curious.

"You have that look on your face. You know the one that means you're either dealing with something very important….or that you're constipated" replied Harry and Sirius laughed at that, if only briefly, before turning his mind back to the reason that he had come in the first place.

"You shouldn't go" Sirius said blunty "the Commonwealth needs you".

"Luna has always been a better administrator so, for that matter, have you, Neville and Nic. Besides it runs quite well in my absence thanks to the Royal Council and if anyone should know that it's me. I did design it that way after all".

"That's not the point" stressed Sirius. "You are the face of the Commonwealth and if it lost you the situation could become...problematic".

"I" replied Harry just as firm "am not an administrator. I am a sometime commander and healer but, more often than I would like, a soldier and teacher. Besides there is no way in hell that I'm leaving my wife and child in a warzone that is about to include several Jedi. If she has to fight them then she will never do so alone".

"You are taking the Silver Guard" stated Sirius as if it was a forgone conclusion and with a face that brooked no argument from Harry. All his Godson did to that was sigh.

After the abduction of Luna and her eventual safe return the Royal Council had, despite the protests of harry and Luna (though for different reasons) drawn from the eight best companies that they could find throughout Commonwealth space and created the Silver Guard.

The main purpose of which was to protect the Royal Family.

The Silver Guard had been further divided into two with four rotating companies each with one set for Harry and one for Luna.

Luna had taken it upon herself to name the new units with hers being called the Star Battalion and his the Sabre Battalion in memory of the last unit he had served in.

Each of the four companies that were charged with protecting Harry were regularly refreshed from those serving in the many border skirmishes that tended to crop up when any one entity tried to carve out a little peace on the edges of the Outer Rim.

Generally the units were roughly made up of five hundred Magi, five hundred droids, five hundred Goblins, four hundred of other member races and one hundred healers and technicians though they generally didn't serve all at the same time but rather in pairs.

Luna's composition of her forces was different with far more healers and member races of the Commonwealth.

Then again, thought Harry, she has always been less combative by nature and much more about healing and reconciliation.

"Fine" conceded Harry "but I'm only taking the droids and the mixed citizen units. The longer that the Republic is unaware of the Magi and their true skills (as well as the Goblins beyond rumours) the better".

Sirius did not look happy at all with Harry's declaration but was mollified by the fact that, aside from the forces that were already in place guarding Luna, there would be another twenty thousand droids on the ships that went with Harry.

Though they would help to form a blockade against large scale outside interference there was also still the ten thousand on board the _Silver Flame_ to help even if the other ships turned out not to be needed.

"Go" said Sirius at last. "But hurry back would you?"

"Of course I will" said Harry. "You would be lost without me to take you drinking as, if not me, who else would pay your mammoth bar tabs?"

With that, and a long hug goodbye, Harry was off to get involved in yet another conflict. If the Senate was going to send the Jedi then he was honour bound, per their agreement, to also come and to bring the Silver Knights with him.

The battles on Arkania would be historic in that they would mark the first time that the Knights of the Silver and the Jedi met in a warzone and, it appeared, on opposite sides.

It would be twenty five Jedi Knights and Padawans that would face the Silver Knights with only the Antarian Rangers and the Iron First as reinforcements and soon, as was becoming all too familiar, the galaxy would change.


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31: Revolution Jedi and Teachers (Part 2)

 _A/N: Last chapter before my holiday...  
_

50 BBY

3,603 ATC

Arkania

Holonet News Broadcast

 _After six months the situation on Arkania has almost reached boiling point. With the situation concerning the Senate, Jedi finally arrived on the scene led by Jedi Knight Mace Windu who, along with nine of his brethren, arrived to diffuse the situation._

 _There are conflicting reports as to why diplomacy failed but the fact remains that what some people call an insurrection and others a rebellion seems to have progressed to a fully fledged civil war._

 _Some of the most vocal detractors of the Senate's interference, such as the Senator of Onderon, claim that it has_ always _been a civil war whereas others like the Trade Federation that support the Senate's intervention blame the Silver Commonwealth for the escalation of violence in the area._

 _For more information on the Silver Commonwealth click_ here _._

 _For more on the debates in the Senate click_ here _._

 _The Intergalactic Jackpot is now up to 3.4 billion credits with the draw only three days away. BUY YOUR TICKET NOW!_

-LAFA-

The estranged (from his superiors at least) Jedi Master Aquinos was lost in his own musings as he stared down his turquoise hands and was flanked, as ever, by two of his faithful Iron Knights Ilum and Firkraan who were installed in twin and highly customised Uulshos Justice Droids.

The Council has _never_ understood my views on technology and droids reacting instead with fear and scorn, he thought, I can't help but fear that they will see my Iron Knights the same way.

Coming from a species that spent the first fifteen years of their lives without any form of higher thought and being essentially mindless (until they created a cocoon only to burst out of it days later as an adult that was fully cognizant and therefore able to think clearly) he had an admittedly unique perspective on the nature of sentience.

From that knowledge he had developed the theory that droids, even though they started out as merely software, if not given regular memory wipes he theorised that they could become sentient and that if they did it would be sentience equal to that of any organic.

When he had argued that theory before the Council of Knowledge and even pointed out that, given the age of some droids especially in Hutt Space, it was likely to already be happening and that the advances in adaptive cognitive software made it more than likely they were less than thrilled.

They also recommended more stringent and more regular memory wipes across the Republic. When he protested that they were inhibiting the creation of life they branded him misguided to put it lightly.

So he had set off on his own to prove his theories and had even tried to imbue the Force into technology to speed up the process as well as provide proof that no Jedi could ever refute.

Though he was, as of yet, unsuccessful to attempt this he had travelled the known Galaxy to discover different techniques in the Force that may have been long forgotten and a form of technology that it could mesh with.

Instead of finding what he sought he had found the Shards on Orax.

These were sentient crystals that, with intense study, he could communicate with and though that in itself was hardly groundbreaking the fact that some of them were Force Sensitive was. Of those few, no more than a dozen at first, wanted to explore beyond their normal static crystalline existence.

He had taught them all that he knew of the Force after first carefully installing them in droid bodies so that they could begin to experience the world as fully tactile beings.

When he felt that they were trained enough he had dubbed them the Iron Knights and performed the knighting ceremony then and there at the place he had trained them like the Jedi Lords of old.

Then he had set off to prove their worth and contacted the Jedi High Council while helping in any world they came across in their travels. He fully intended to bring them to the Jedi Temple and forcefully open some closed minds as to their almost limitless potential.

Whether his original theory was right or wrong didn't matter in the end as it was clear that the Force and the balance was present in far more than the Jedi or the Republic currently believed.

However he was redirected (by the Force itself so it seemed) to Arkania and even before they had gotten close he could feel the gravity of the situation and the conflict between both sides of the Force.

It sent waves out for at least half a parsec so it was hard to miss though even with that rather strong warning he trusted in the Force as he always had.

He did acknowledge his own puzzlement that, as soon as he entered the system, he was greeted by the sight of a Commonwealth _Centurion_ classBattlecruiser and from the readings he was getting there were many more around though there weren't there at this moment.

From the scant information that he had from the last Republic Intelligence packet he had received they were aware of the existence of the cruisers but that was about all that could be confirmed.

They had no clue when it came to their technical specifications or even how they would compare to the Republic's own navy (mostly comprised of beat up _Hammerhead_ cruisers as well as old original _Centurion_ class Battlecruisers) which dated mostly to just before the Reformation and technically now part of the Republic's Sector Defence Forces.

The only other information that they did have were third and fourth hand reports of how powerful those ships were despite having been originally based off of a fairly well known Republic design. The difference between what was known of their own and what was said about these Commonwealth versions was startling to say the least.

Though no spy could land on Commonwealth soil without being detected in short order (and the Republic Intelligence Service was still baffled over how) all of their first hand intelligence came from the captains and crews of ships that they didn't land or, if the crew did, they both did not know of the spy aboard ship and the spy did not go with them.

In this way the Republic (and unbeknownst to them the Sith) were able to gain tiny pieces of information and slowly form a picture of the Commonwealth's comings and goings. Thanks in no part to the nature in which the information was gathered their knowledge was hardly complete though.

It was a great embarrassment in some circles that any other method of intelligence gathering failed.

The Commonwealth maintained no embassy within the Republic citing that if they had that then, of course the Republic would demand the same in return. There was no way, they insisted, that they would allow Jedi into their heartlands.

Negotiations on that front continued but the Commonwealth remained firm on it's position.

Worse all indirect methods had also failed. Any electronic listening devices that they placed (for example in crates) ceased to function once they passed through customs and their data networks were far more encrypted as well as adaptive than any the Republic had ever seen.

Though they were working on it no one expected success any time soon and all of this information flooded through his mind even as his small ship was contacted by the much larger one in front of him.

"Calling the ship carrying the Jedi Master Aquinos...please respond" stated a youthful human voice and, despite himself, he was curious as to what they wanted. After all here he was in what was effectively a warzone and so he quickly flicked the switch on the armrest of his chair.

A face that was young, open and with striking and inquisitive eyes, was quickly formed by the blue light that sprang from the small device on the console before him and the small projectors in the walls nearest it.

"This is Master Aquinos" he said firmly "to whom am I speaking?"

"Captain Conner sir of the _Hope_ , Princess Potter's flagship, and I send you her compliments. She asks that you come aboard sir".

"For what purpose?" He asked skeptically.

"Err.." said the young officer "..dinner I believe sir".

"Dinner? In the middle of an insurrection?" asked Aquinos disbelievingly.

"A minor point of correction sir...we are in the middle of a _civil war_ not an insurrection" the young officer's voice was as hard as steel. "Your safety is guaranteed and not only does everyone have to eat but we are famous for keeping our word".

Aquinos thought it over. The young captain was correct in that however they were also famous for twisting their words so much that even the best Republic bankers and merchants were wary when trying to get the best deal out of them.

"I'd say that it is more like you enforce your contracts most scrupulously and to the letter" disagreed Aquinos mildly.

"I'd say" Conner replied shrugging as he did so "that it's the same thing. Our word is our bond and our bond is our word".

"Very well" replied the Jedi Master reluctantly. "I will be right over. Please send me your docking procedures" and even as he said it the ever helpful captain had already sent over the instructions for doing so.

As much as he hoped that both his dinner and subsequent meeting with Princess Luna would be both peaceful and centered around a mutually satisfactory end to the conflict he also sent a coded message to the Jedi High Council informing them of what had transpired and where he would be.

There was, after all, no harm in being cautious.

-LAFA-

As Luna sat around the small antique table in her simple but expensive 'working clothes' she knew that this would end up being a very difficult conversation for her guest.

Her sharp eyes missed nothing as they both ate lightly of small delicacies and finger foods even as they talked of nothing important by confining themselves to talking of things like how beautiful such and such a world was or how the crop was doing on planet A and how plant B was recovering from an epidemic.

In short nothing of substance. It was all just the bland socially acceptable small talk that was filled with both double meaning and nothing tangible or contrary until Luna decided, with her usual forthright bluntness, to change that even as Aquinos was lifting another delicacy to his mouth.

"How is the training of your Iron Knights pogressing?" Luna asked innocently and the Jedi Master's eyes widened slightly even as the food that the man was eating almost flew out of his mouth. He was clearly caught off guard as he tried to formulate an answer to the question.

"You have well informed spies Princess. I haven't even told the High Council the exact nature of my news yet...only that I have some" he said at last. He was more than surprised then that her first response was an open and carefree laugh.

"We have no need of our spies for _that_ piece of news" she said. Seeing his split second skeptical expression that was quickly hidden behind a bland mask she continued "You have Jedi focused on trying to discern the future at the Jedi Temple do you not?"

"Yes" he shrugged entirely comfortable with admitting that as, among certain circles, it was common knowledge after all. "But the future is difficult to see as it is ever changing. Besides that those that have a true affinity for communing that deeply with the Force in such a way regularly _and_ understanding it are exceptionally rare".

"Because" added Luna "the future is often in flux as well as in fragments I am aware. I also know that seeing back is infinitely easier mostly due to the trouble of multiple possible futures versus the single straight line that is the past".

"You are a Seer then" Aquinos asked surprised at someone outside the Jedi trying their hand at such a difficult discipline especially given all the other duties that she must have had and she only smiled softly before speaking again.

"A little more than most Force Users though there are far more than just me in the Commonwealth". This was all true Luna having found that the discipline was much easier when you were able and willing to balance both sides of the Force although, given her position she did not have the time to fully devote herself to it. "Certainly more than any Jedi born since the restructuring of the Jedi Code".

With those words the Jedi Master was far from soothed and his face hardened even as his hand slowly, almost imperceptibly, inched towards his lightsaber. His entire demeanor became decidedly _un_ relaxed.

"Sith" he spat.

Luna couldn't help it, despite the blatant threat in his tone and with his hand, she really couldn't help it and let loose another full open laugh even as she held up her hands in a universal gesture of surrender and vigorously shook her head.

"Do I _look_ like I'm consumed with petty vengeance to you? Do you see my eyes...are they yellow? The Sith seek to impose their brand of order on an 'uncaring' universe. The Jedi are no different in that regard though admittedly their aims and results are more benign….generally. I am different as I am either the first nor the second, depending on how you measure these things, Knight of the Silver. I serve neither the stunted Jedi or my own arrogance...only what is, what might be and strive to always protect against what cannot ever come to pass".

Her next words were like iron and blazed with her surety of purpose "My only loyalty aside from that and my bonds to my husband is to the Commonwealth itself.

While she was speaking the unorthodox Jedi Master began to relax, if only slightly, and watched her with a deep frown on his face though his hand hadn't moved further towards his saber.

Luna also thought that she saw a glimmer of renewed curiosity in his eyes.

"The Jedi have a calling that mirrors that in many ways. We serve the will of the Force and the Republic" Aquinos disagreed.

"I wish I didn't have to be the one to break your illusions" began Luna with a deep compassion emanating from her eyes. "But as I said...I serve what is...not what I would like. I am afraid that you are mistaken on both of your points. First in practice the Jedi serve the Senate _not_ the Republic and there is a large difference between the two. Yes...yes I can tell from your face that you were about to point out all the aid work that the Order does without Senatorial interference but that is not a form of freedom but rather a sign of the Senate's apathy".

Aquinos clearly was not comfortable with the conversation but to his credit he did let her continue.

"If you doubt me remember that you and other Jedi are here and in a warzone that even your Council couldn't agree to send Jedi to before the Senate _ordered_ it. The noble Jedi are now fighting on the side of a corrupt cause that otherwise they would never have touched".

"Didn't your husband order the same thing with the Knights of the Silver?" interjected the Jedi Master.

"No. The presence of the Knights is in response to the Jedi. Even if he had and _somehow_ managed to get it past the Royal Council a Knight can still refuse if he is otherwise engaged, the Force is leading them in another direction or it makes them uncomfortable with no censure at all. The Grandmaster can also point blank refuse as he has his own advisors and, before you ask, the person who is the Grandmaster is not and never would be the Silver Prince".

"And" stated Aquinos with a face clearly showing his skepticism and his willingness to put it aside for the moment. "Your second point?"

"Is that the Jedi, while wise, seek to serve _only_ a segment of the Force and only as far as their interpretation of it allows. The fact that interpretation has changed over the years to be far from the Order from which they sprang even before the 'Progressives' altered the code is conveniently ignored. All of this makes them close minded and the fact that you were sent away is further proof of that in and of itself".

Here she paused in her talk and, seeing that he was still skeptical and not really breaking past his natural resistance to her viewpoint she decided to do something that all of the Knights, her and Harry included, rarely did outside of Commonwealth space.

"It seems that you are still mistrustful of us" she stated "and that is because you have no true comprehension of what a Knight of the Silver really is. Allow me to enlighten you".

With that she fully dropped her clouding and allowed the distrustful Jedi Master to fully examine her aura in the Force with all of his senses for a few long moments before raising it again.

What he had seen in those seconds that felt like an age floored him.

He had seen Master Yoda in the Force before. The tiny green alien was literally dwarfed by the size of his own aura. The Light Side was like a pillar that formed a massive and glowing trunk that covered the man in a warm embrace. It was also at least five feet taller than Yoda himself.

Luna on the other hand had an aura that was _almost_ as tall but was also somehow deeper than the Grandmaster's. Yoda's light was shallow, well meaning and peaceful, but still very very shallow and thin in comparison.

Luna was also not a Sith by any stretch as their auras were dark twisted and...well boiling.. but he had honestly not seen anything like her before. Where a Jedi, any Jedi sought to push away as much of the Dark Side of the Force as they could and minimize the effect of the rest she did not.

That act alone challenged the beliefs that he had held since he was a child as they were always taught that it was the only way to safely resist the darkness found in everyone whether they were a simple baker or the most powerful Force User alive.

At first he thought that her aura was akin to that of a grey Jedi (Force based not political) but then her presence would be either a swirling mass of grey that never stopped moving like an angry storm or light tinged with the occasional touches of darkness.

Instead she had somehow balanced the light and dark inside her almost as if the two sides were pieces of a great jigsaw puzzle that just had to be turned in such a way to balance each other out. All of the dark inside her was enclosed by thin but very powerful bands of light and effectively trapped and balanced by it and she had somehow managed to do this all throughout her Force Presence.

It seemed to make her connection deeper and somehow more complete, and as such she was more controlled and more connected than anyone he had ever seen. Before he was able to look more closely at it however his window into the impossible had ended just as abruptly as it began.

"Why..." he asked.

"Am I showing you this?" she finished for him. "It's simple really. I need you to understand a few things and believe me. First while the Jedi _mostly_ mean well they have become progressively more arrogant and close minded as time has gone on. Second that just because we are not Jedi it doesn't mean that we are Sith or that we can't be trusted. Lastly I wanted to show you something.".

"What do you want to show me?" Aquinos asked even as she rose smoothly and slowly approached him.

He knew that he should have been concerned or maybe even frightened but, after everything that she had said and shown him in the last few minutes, he was almost paralyzed in shock. What he had seen and the disturbing conclusions that were beginning to take hold on the edges of his mind.

What Luna said and did next did nothing to help those conclusions from going away.

"I am going to show you something that was going to happen if the Commonwealth wasn't asked to intervene here" stated Luna even as she lightly touched her first two fingers to his forehead. "Even what I am about to show you took over six months to form into a coherent picture and even more than that to be certain that it was going to happen rather than simply likely to. Oddly enough it got easier to read once the Commonwealth began to change things".

With those words the Jedi Master was no longer sitting with Luna around a small dinner table.

Instead he found himself standing on a very different Arkania. There were no droids to fight here and no Knights of the Silver directing and fighting side by side with their troops. Instead there were cyborg monstrosities (some of which defied description) that were not only more diverse than the races that they were made from but, from the looks of it, exceptional killers as well

In short they were repugnant to him in every way imaginable.

There were also the infamous Arkanian Renegades as well as some 'free' Yaka who didn't want enforced alteration of what they were and they were caught in a great battle.

The battle seemed to rage for hours before his eyes and it took him a few moments to realise that their opposition was led (rather brilliantly he was pleased to see) primarily by Jedi escorted troops that were _not_ cyborgs.

He did do a double take when he saw a version of himself fighting beside the Jedi Knights in this place though he was heartened that his Iron Knights were also there fighting with them shoulder to shoulder.

Even though the battle was long and bloody with the full forces of the Dominion, their Iron Fist, and the combined might of both the Jedi and his Iron Knights the Renegades were eventually defeated.

For a moment he wished he could cheer the cyborgs destruction but, the fact that he was only an outside observer and a Jedi prevented that.

Soon enough though he regretted his desire as he saw the Jedi leave and the remaining Renegades (those that were caught as very few managed to escape), far from being treated fairly, were unceremoniously killed.

It appeared that after all of the blood and death no lessons were learned. His spirit quailed as he saw many bodies of men, women and children dumped like so much waste into pits and the soldiers laughed and joked over their corpses.

It was an abject lesson on the idea of good intentions.

Almost as bad for him personally he saw himself return to the Jedi High Council and their, in his view, pigheaded rejection and outright banishment of both him and his Iron Knights. As much as he didn't want to believe it he sensed not only no deception but also that both her words and this vision was the complete truth as she saw it.

Besides he could think of no real reason for her to lie nor did he believe that any lie like that would hold for long if she was trying to deceive him.

Then he was back on Arkania so suddenly that it would have made his head spin if he was still in his body. He saw that the exploitation of the Yaka not only continued but escalated, often by force, and the treatment was more horrific than the Jedi would think possible.

Finally he got flashes of the greater galaxy as a whole. War and death were coming and on such a scale that this wasn't even a blip on the radar and would, far too soon, be forgotten.

The conflict was like a fire in his mind spreading and reaching all corners of known space and, while the galaxy struggled against it he saw a dark stain grow from the core of the Republic... right from it's very heart. It seemed to move like a insidious fetid tide that ate and ate away at everything good with no rest and a hunger that was unending.

Then, with a strangled gasp that was torn from his suddenly ragged throat, he was back looking at the concerned eyes of the Princess of the Silver Commonwealth and he knew that just as her eyes were understanding his radiated a crushing pain.

"Would they ever accept my Iron Knights?" Aquinos asked and Luna was touched that, even after all he had just seen, the care and safety of his students was both his first thought as well as being so strong that it practically bled into the Force.

"I _severely_ doubt it. It is a shame but this current incarnation of the Jedi Order like to think of themselves as peacekeepers but, from what we have observed, that has somehow transformed into being the keepers of the status quo. You and your Knights are both new and unknown and this makes you dangerous to that as well as, by extension, the Jedi themselves".

Her blunt response might have shocked him but, with the future of his students at stake, now was not the time for platitudes.

"Where will we go? What can we do against what is to come?" Aquinos rambled trying to collect his thoughts from the ashes that his dreams had become.

"You could all join the Commonwealth. You saw the darkness at the end of the vision...it is that we seek to fight not the Jedi. I will not lie to you as if the Jedi interfere with our purpose we _will_ fight them and it will probably happen here...but we won't seek it out" she replied.

"Why me?" Aquinos questioned.

"Frankly...aside from anything else we are in desperate need of flexible and open minded teachers as there are still so few of us compared to those waiting to be trained and time is an enemy we share and all can understand. I think that, once you have unlearned some bad habits from the Jedi, you and your students could fit the bill nicely".

"And they will be accepted?" he half asked and half accused before adding "Can I continue my research without censorship?"

"So long as that research does no harm to any living being or endanger the Commonwealth we have no problem with it...in fact we encourage you to try. As for your students they would not only be accepted but we would provide state of the art customisable droid bodies for them at no charge".

"I will have to consider your offer" he said guardedly while being acutely aware of how generous the offer was as the Jedi would never have offered so much. "I will have to talk to the others as they should have a say in their future. I do think that we will soon have an agreement though".

"There is one final condition made by my husband and I" she said blandly and he was instantly back on his guard.

"Oh? You don't want _us_ to fight the Jedi do you?"

"No… we understand how that might be...problematic...this early in our relationship. Simply put we just want you to get them to chose names other than those of lightsaber crystals as eventually, given the finite nature of their classifications, it _will_ get very confusing".

Now Aquinos laughed softly, finding the Princesses slightly vexed expression as she said this highly funny, and privately very glad she hadn't asked for more.

"Agreed...provisionally" he answered simply.

"Then welcome to the Knights of the Silver Knight Aquinos….provisionally" she chuckled back at him.

And with that, as well as a little retraining in the nature of using the Dark Side of the Force, the Commonwealth gained more competent teachers to train the new generations of Knights.

-LAFA-

I'm not often given the luxury of truly hating someone, thought Harry, but if I was then I'd really hate both the Republic and the Jedi right now.

From the reports that he had been receiving before the Jedi turned up the rebellion had been going well and, with the Iron Guard caught arrogantly flat footed, an early victory seemed in sight.

Then the Jedi had arrived reorganising the shaky troops and turning those that once relied more on ceremony and fear (and were losing because of it) into a much more effective fighting force.

Part of the reason for this abrupt change and subsequent stalling of the war effort may have been down partly to the fact that the Commonwealth had assumed, wrongly as it turned out, that Jedi Master Dooku would be assigned to lead the fight on the Dominion's behalf.

Indeed their high ranking army officers had thought it so likely that they had made many battle plans and countermeasures based off of Dooku's psychological profile. Instead they had sent Mace Windu and though they had begun to adjust they were still 'playing catch up'.

An understandable error perhaps but still a rather grave one.

The reason that Dooku had not been sent may have had something to do with his recent elevation to master but the fact remained that, by the time they had realised their mistake, it was too late to completely alter their plans and they had to make do with adapting them as much as possible (at least at first).

Though both men, as Jedi, were obviously trained in very similar ways they were still very different people and it showed especially in how they acted as commanders.

Where Dooku was largely defensive and preferred fortified positions and strong lines of supply both Windu and (somewhat ironically) Harry preferred lightning raids with very fluid lines of supply.

Both Harry and Windu liked to draw the enemy into a place where they could be crushed and sought to reach the prospective battlefield before their enemy (getting there far in advance of their opponent by using the swiftest means they had available to them).

What that translated to, in essence, were months of a long and very annoying game of cat and mouse that was lengthening the war considerably.

The only upside of this was that it was costing the Dominion a lot of money and though they were obscenely wealthy their pockets were nowhere as deep as the Commonwealth who, with the arrival of the Jedi, were able to take a much more active role than before.

The Dominion was becoming desperate as they only had the resources of one world to draw upon and their supplies were dwindling. There were already riots over enforced curfews as well as rationing in several major cities and in a few martial law had even been declared.

Adding to the mixed bag was the fact that, before the Jedi's arrival, they were losing two droids to every three and that hadn't really changed as the droids could be repaired more easily and more quickly than organics.

If it wasn't for the almost obscene amount of repair droids he had brought it would have been an entirely different matter though.

It was also part the Commonwealth's technology, part the runes hidden in every droid, part their advanced and adaptive C.P.U's and part simply the good positioning of repair droids that allowed this and so they were not only wearing the people down (by proxy) but the Iron Guard as well.

Thanks to the advanced C.P.U's the other bonus for Harry's forces was free training of the rest of his armies.

It was Commonwealth practice that, at the end of every major conflict, the combat experience of the surviving units would be copied and then broken down and turned into new tactical algorithms thereby using the experience that had been gained to improve the rest.

They even scavenged as much data as they could from the fallen wherever possible and though the process wasn't instantaneous when they were ready the algorithms were downloaded to every droid connected to the Commonwealth's network.

There were always minor skirmishes and border wars on the edges of Commonwealth space with many of its official edges touching either Wild Space, the Unknown Regions or the Outer Rim.

Their armies gained from all of them as the more battles the droids had the more their software and minds (for lack of a better term) developed and learned. The more this happened the more seasoned and effective they all became.

By this point however Harry was tired of fighting on this one self important planet and by this point if it wasn't for the large percentage of the Yaka population that had eagerly joined the cause he might have found a way to call in the loan and left with every piece of Commonwealth tech that was on the planet regardless of the consequences.

One look at the pitious and hopeful faces of Yaka that simply wanted to be left alone always stopped him though.

Arkanians are so damned arrogant and self obsessed Harry thought while pouring over several maps of the area that were spread over a makeshift table. He was not alone in doing this as there were several leaders of the Renegades and two of his Knights doing exactly the same thing.

If it wasn't for the Yaka's burning desire for the freedom to choose their own fate then even the 'good' Arkanians would have been left to fend for themselves as he honestly thought that they all deserved one another.

"Are you sure that this will work?" Dolo Harta asked with the far too common undertone of condescension and haughtiness running through her voice.

It was so common in fact that, in the space of a long slow blink, Harry had to wonder if she was even aware of how her own voice sounded even as she asked the same question that she had been repeating (for at least the tenth time) for the last fifteen minutes.

"Nothing in life is certain especially in war" Harry said sharply while looking at the now de facto leader of the Renegades. Dolo's metaphorical star had risen with every single victory of his droids.

He then glanced at and mentally dismissed the others that were gathered around the table as if there was going to be any resistance to his plans then it would start and end with Dolo.

"Then why are we doing this? Why take such a risk?" she questioned abruptly.

"Because you wish your people to be more ethical... do you not?" Harry countered and, before she could answer that question, he continued. "We have more supplies and shipments coming in while they do not and, if that was the only concern, you would be right and we should do nothing. The problem with that is _perception_ as the longer you wait the more like an illegitimate successor and conquer you will be perceived as and less as the bright new wave and liberators you wish to be".

"Is that why we do not simply get more combat droids sent to use from the Commonwealth but rather only building and maintenance ones?"

"Exactly" stated Harry though he was only partially telling the truth as he doubted that they wanted to hear how much he didn't trust them with more of his creations.

There was also the fact that if he did that not only would it lead to more people viewing them all as conquerors but it would lead to some very awkward questions from the Republic emissaries as they seemed to believe this was his only army.

He hadn't lied even to them as it was more simple than that. He hadn't corrected them when they assumed the fact that this was his only military force of consequence.

Harry was loathe to assume anything but he privately believed that the thing under threat was less this planet and more the Republic itself.

Though an admittedly bloated and decadent thing now it was not what it used to be. Once it had stood for and been founded on high ideals (though admittedly favouring humans a little too much). It even had Jedi Masters as the Chancellor's for the first few years of its existence and they had such fame and power that even now their names were whispered with a mixture of awe and respect.

If the wider galaxy had known of Harry's true history they would have known that one of his areas of self study while training to be a Jedi was the early history of the Jedi Order and then later the Republic itself (especially its founding).

The main problem with the Republic, in Harry's opinion, was the fact that it had been born with few checks and balances and those had largely disappeared or become ceremonial over time.

The other problem was simply that it had been the largest fish in a very small pond for a very long time and without a form of serious competition (at least regularly as thousands of years could pass between major problems) as well as the fact that the Jedi allowing more and more power to be taken from them it was no wonder they had rotted.

The Republic had become a caricature of itself with power not being held by wise men and women but rather politicians of _at best_ dubious morals. Looking back on history it was clear to him and other members of the Commonwealth that it was sped up, if not started, by the Sith themselves.

And the Republic remain oblivious to that as they were to so much in these days simply because they had been _the_ big fish so long that they had forgotten that there could not only be bigger ones but even the largest fish will die if hit in exactly the right place by a smaller one.

Because of his impending feeling of dread Harry had recently ordered, aside from a few surprises put in place centuries before, the construction of fifteen new factory worlds. These were not only fully automated but secret with their very existence known only to himself, Luna and the Lords and Ladies of the Royal Council.

Under the Council's secret direction the first five would begin to produce droids non stop and in numbers that hadn't been seen outside of the Geo Forge itself. The next five would produce the ships and equipment to carry them and the final five would create small batches of experimental designs of both droids and ships that (if successful) would supplant the models already on the other worlds production queue.

And those factory worlds, hidden in the furthest corners of the Commonwealth and far away from known trade routes, would be complete and begin producing within a month.

Still, in the here and now of the command tent, there was a lot more grumbling than Harry would have liked but they did eventually agree to his plan.

-LAFA-

Mace Windu who was known as a calm and patient Jedi Knight was having his own problems only a few days later.

It was bad enough that he found himself both regularly reciting the Jedi Code in his head and muttering it under his breath far too often for his tastes but he also had to remind himself that Jedi _never_ acted in anger no matter how tempting it was to simply punch the face of the obnoxious man before him.

In all fairness everything about the middle aged Arkanian before him offended the humble Jedi. The man had an almost constant sneer on his face and, though he wore the most expensive and stylish clothes, had a large paunch which told Windu that regardless of the widespread rationing on the planet the man ate _very_ well.

Beyond how he looked he was also very dismissive of the Jedi and ignored the fact that it was only with the Jedi's intervention that they had as a group managed to stall the enemies attack.

Recently though (as far as he knew) the overall number of destroyed droids had risen Windu found himself questioning his purpose here and, if there was one thing that Mace detested, it was going along without a clear purpose and goal to his daily life.

To the Arkanian (and apparently his superiors) they should have done a lot more than that and because they hadn't they were failing.

The things that they should have done included, but were not limited to, magically solving the food crisis despite the fact there were Commonwealth Battlecruisers in orbit stopping all shipments, somehow breaking the aforementioned blockade despite severely lacking ships so that they could get food and mercenary personnel and most importantly crushing the Renegades as quickly as possible.

As the Steward of the Dominion droned on _again_ in his dry and officious tone Mace had to give it to his enemy commander, the Silver Prince, for a well executed plan.

It hadn't escaped his notice that the two opposing forces were conspicuously well matched in terms of numbers and they had left it to the Republic to increase the stakes, making them the aggressor, by sending in the Jedi Knights.

Only to be matched impossibly quickly be an equal detachment of the Knights of the Silver with the Prince himself leading them and the fact that they hadn't simply used one of their ships, like the _Silver Flame_ for example, to utterly decimate the Dominion from orbit was telling.

He was in the irritating position therefore of seeing clearly what his enemy was doing but being unable to stop it.

This trend of preplanning was reinforced by the fact that the Rangers were also well matched by the famous Sabre Battalion and it clearly meant that not only was there a leak somewhere in their lines of communication but that it was the Republic's actions, along with the Jedi and the Dominion, that was beginning to be despised throughout the Republic rather than the Commonwealth.

They had even managed to gain control of the Holonet transmission array in the earliest days of the conflict and whoever now controlled them clearly had some intelligence. Though some of what was now being broadcast was negative towards the Commonwealth's actions the majority of the transmissions painted the Dominion's forces in the worst light possible.

Granted, conceded Mace, the Commonwealth really didn't have to try that hard to make the Dominion look bad and they did just enough to cover that it was propaganda as well as news.

Sometimes, his thoughts continued, I wish the Jedi could be free of obligation to the Senate but then I remind myself that it is the most effective way to keep the peace of the Republic and we _must_ keep the peace no matter how distasteful that task can be and at least the High Council is aware of what is truly going on as well as taking steps to counter the propaganda.

What wasn't known to Windu was that, soon after he had managed to 'hack' a small substation to send his coded messages, the missives that he was sending were being caught and then expertly altered so that the Jedi did nothing.

They believed that the transmissions were all fair representations of fact and that Windu had matters well in hand as it was almost childsplay for the Commonwealth Intelligence Service to change them as they did, after all, know the Jedi's secret codes.

"I don't understand" said the Steward (Mace didn't know his real name as they _apparently_ weren't worthy to know it). "Are you refusing your orders or are you simply trying to mask yet another failure?"

"I am questioning" snapped Mace who was annoyed at the man's tone despite himself "why we must move against the enemy with undue haste. The rationing was implemented precisely to avoid such rash and tactically ill advised decisions".

"You will do as you are told" snapped back the Steward out of patience "because the Dominion commands it. You are _their_ servant and it is not your place to question their wisdom".

"I serve the _Republic_ as a whole" Mace answered with more venom than he intended or should have really ever come out of a Jedi's mouth but the irritating Steward brought out the worst in him.

"Of course you do" was the condescending reply "but last I checked we were a valued member of the Republic and therefore part of the body you serve so I _suggest_ you obey your orders".

"Will you not just listen to me for one moment?" Mace asked, clearly at his wits end, even as the man looked at him with something akin to patronising amusement. "The majority of our forces are conscripted Yaka while the enemy not only has well programmed battle droids but ones that are easily adaptable due to their modular technology and, by and large, even easier to repair".

"All the more reason to end this quickly before too many are restored to join the ranks" interjected the Steward but Mace, after a moment, continued speaking and ignored the graceless interruption.

"Worse than all of that our enemy likes to confuse our reading equipment in the field so that we are never quite sure where they are. I came here with fifteen Jedi and thanks to surprises prepared in advance, out maneuvering and ambushes ten of them have been captured and taken, so far as we know, to one of the ships in orbit. All of the remaining Jedi bar myself and Padawan Kinning are out delaying in the field with the majority of our forces".

Mace half dragged the man to the center of the room that served as their command center and pointed to the massive holographic display that he swiftly turned on before the man could open his mouth and speak again.

"Here" said Windu pointing at a critical location "and here the remaining Jedi are harrying the enemy and won't be available for your plan...can you not at least wait for them to return?"

"No because it is _not_ my plan but our orders and they will be obeyed. Besides it looks like we out number the enemy nearby by around ten thousand men".

"Those numbers are rough estimates only and, even if true, our men are mostly untrained and in case you forgot the Silver Prince has two Knights of the Silver presently under his command against one Jedi and one Padawan".

"I never took the great and oh so powerful Jedi Order for cowards" snarled the Steward.

"It is not cowardice but rather prudence. Aside from anything else that will happen I can sense that many things of importance will be decided when we eventually meet in battle. Where we are likely to meet them" with a few taps of a console he brought up an image of a plain stretch of ground "is so full of shatterpoints that I can feel them from here though I cannot discern their meaning".

"I should have known that the Jedi would cloak their weak wills in silly mysticism" replied the Steward not believing Mace's warning for a single second. "If you are so concerned then I suggest that you, like that thrice cursed Potter, lead from the front".

With those bitter and haughty words the Steward stormed away from Windu.

-LAFA-

The plain of Gillesh was tense as the two armies faced each other in relative silence, neither willing to risk the first move, and behind Mace's force of 35,000 a deep river hissed its eternal might against the otherwise deafening silence.

On the other side of the field of battle stood Harry's 20,000 along with not only the man himself but two Knights of the Silver and, as a part of that force, five hundred of the Sabre Battalion (specifically made up of non magical species and droids).

Harry knew that with a tall, wide and dark forest behind them and a raging river behind his foe there could be no easy retreat for either side.

Hopefully what I have planned will be enough, Harry thought, as if not it will be a very short battle indeed.

-LAFA-

Mace, for his part, had realised the exact same thing standing in the center of his own forces even as Squire Kinning took up his place on the eastern flank and awaited his orders while the Steward stood next to Windu impatient as always.

Like Harry he knew that the battles would end here, if for stronger reasons, as there were so many shatterpoints over the battlefield that he had to actually focus on not seeing them as they were so layered all over the ground that if he did not he would be effectively blinded by them.

"Why have you not attacked? We outnumber them and they cannot escape" whined the Steward.

"It would appear so but...something is not right. The Commonwealth did choose the site of this battle and I assume they have something in those woods just for us" replied Windu and, while the Steward snorted in disbelief, he continued to study the battlefield.

"My patience is wearing thin Jedi and _my_ people are the ones starving" chided the Steward.

At that he turned away from studying the battle site and pointedly looked at the Steward's midsection giving him both a critical look as well as his own snort of disbelief.

"Your masters are only concerned because they are losing money from off world contracts that they cannot fulfill and hate being away from the source of their precious test subjects" Windu said harshly to which the stewards face hardened.

"Regardless" spat the Steward "you _must_ attack. If you do not order the attack then I will".

Windu sighed and prepared himself, as much as he could, for the unknown.

-LAFA-

Harry watched Windu's forces moved slowly towards him and, as he would have done if their positions were reversed, his enemy divided themselves into three parts. The first was led by Windu and was not only the most numerous but headed straight for Harry in the center.

They fired as they went even as the other two branches of the army, made of lighter and quicker units, sought to overwhelm and flank him in a classic pincer movement.

Without needing to be told the front line of Harry's droid front line activated lightweight shields that unfolded from their left arms while firing back with blasters though, at this distance, neither side scored many hits.

Harry stood in the middle of the front rank while his lightsaber almost lazily knocked back the few blaster bolts that were on target to hit him and his entire body conveyed a look of almost detached relaxation.

As his enemy moved closer and within a much more reasonable range Harry watched them like a hawk waiting for the moment to strike with his own lines, while firing, standing firm.

"Initiate Jack-in-the-Box" he said quietly to the droid next to him who nodded and then sent a small signal through its own internal communication array even as Harry moved forward to meet the frontal charge with his droids following him with every quick step.

Well timed and hidden explosives tore into both sides of the Dominion armies flanks having been placed into the ground long before Windu had even arrived and only waiting for the signal from Harry for them to begin their grizzly work. They turned from a well disciplined force into a disorganized and crying mess of flesh and blood within seconds.

Only a very small group managed to survive on one side _and_ still have the heart to keep going rather than fleeing in panic. The fact that one of the few was Padawan Kinning was not lost on him though the blazing lightsaber was a strong clue.

Even as he ran towards his enemy with his own lightsaber buzzing angrily the second and almost final surprise rose from the woods to meet Windu before Harry could their jetpacks roaring.

These HP's, almost one thousand of them, not only had the jetpack mod installed on their backs but also had their right arms replaced with rocket launchers and their left with long adjustable blades.

This was unfortunate for Windu as his ranks had closed almost to a spear like point no doubt expecting to punch through Harry's front lines and deep into the enemy. Instead they were perfect targets for the rockets that rained down upon them.

Squire Kinning was about to face his own troubles as the Silver Knights in Harry's group peeled of with a small detachment of one hundred troops to capture the young Jedi.

In short the battle was going well… at least for Harry.

-LAFA-

Mace Windu cursed so strongly and loudly that, if Yoda were here, he would have been scolded to within an inch of his life to say the least.

Why, Windu thought with irritation, did the Steward have to be so pig headed and order an attack despite his warnings.

Not that the man would be pig headed anymore as when the rockets had rained down it was only his Force enhanced reflexes that allowed him to survive and the Steward was not so gifted and was now only so much mush on the bloody ground.

That happened when you stared directly at a rocket and it landed on your face.

They had known that the enemy should have had around 25,000 but they had only found twenty. With the good cover that the woods had provided it was clear that there was some kind of trap in store but the Steward would not listen and had paid for it dearly.

The Steward's successor and now apparently the new Steward was watching with a small group of his people out of the the fighting and simply observing them die. Nevermind that if they lost here then there was a clear route to the Dominion's capital city and nevermind that it was a risk that they didn't have to take.

No he, his former master and all of his superiors, wanted a clear decisive victory and had ordered an immediate attack on the well prepared Renegades.

Well, thought Mace as he had just a moment to look at the carnage around him, they wanted a slaughter and they were getting it just not in the way they expected.

Then he was swept up in the battle once again and, as he drew closer to Harry Potter, he knew that his only chance of turning the tide was capturing the leader of the enemy.

He thought that the surprises were over and that, though it would be a difficult fight, there would be no more surprises for him and he could hopefully capture the Silver Prince and in short order bring an end to this needless carnage.

He was wrong. He learned a valuable lesson then as he realised slightly too late that a lightsaber would not deflect the small rocket coming his way and though he was unharmed as he managed to use the Force spread the damage around him rather than taking the brunt of it with his flesh.

That the men around him could not do so saddened him even as he felt many of them die and, just as bad, it allowed the enemy troops to pick more of them off. Thankfully for Windu that was the last of the rockets fired at his men as they were now far too close to not hurt their own troops.

On the downside the rocket troops now landed and went to work with their long and deadly blades all throughout the battlefield and his own losses mounted higher and higher.

Soon enough he was back on track in his hunt for Harry and, right before they clashed, the final surprise was sprung and 4,000 droids rose from the roaring river behind the new Stewards contingent and proceeded to slaughter them all.

Mace felt desperation then especially as he saw Padawan Kinning fall, alive but missing at least one limb, and be taken from the combat in short order by the enemy. He was now trapped on all sides and he sank more into the Force both to stay alive and hopefully snatch victory from the jaws of defeat.

Forcing a victory by bargaining the captured leader of an enemy was hardly the noble act of a victorious Jedi but he was really out of options as far as he could tell. This 'easy' battle had turned so very quickly into utter ruin but he was not done for yet.

He was considered, quite rightly, one of the finest blades of the Order and people had waited with baited breath to see how far his skill would take him and so he believed that he could subdue Harry Potter in short order

He ducked under one droid and his hand lashed out slamming it violently into another while his purple blade easily dispatched two more before he finally found himself before Harry Potter.

He moved smoothly, in a perfect Juyo stance, and a small part of his brain idly regretted that he hadn't yet found the time to make his vague ideas of a new lightsaber form a reality yet.

But before he could do much more than make a few opening probes at his enemy his saber was blocked by the deep blue blade belonging to his enemy and it finally dawned on him that capturing the Silver Prince might be very dangerous.

This close Windu was almost bowled over by the strength of the man's Force presence alone.

Still he had a job to do and quickly increased his attack while trying to use the Force and the now littered environment to his advantage. He assumed that his opponent would naturally go on the defensive against such an assault but Harry instead met Force with Force and did it well.

Every single Force attack he made was easily, even contemptuously, countered. Most of his lightning quick blows were not blocked but rather deflected and met with equally fast Form VI counter attacks that, when he blocked them, made his bones scream in protest.

He put the pain out of his mind. He put the dull burning of overtaxing his body with the Force to keep up out of his mind too. In fact his world became very small and it was almost as if the two of them were in a deadly dance as the whole world almost fell away under their combined focus.

Both men were using the Force so much in fact that not only were many objects rising and countering each other in a dull symmetry of motion but they were moving so fast that any one not gifted with the Force could only see blurs of movement and the flashing and hissing of their blades.

There was a very good reason that Force Users tended not to do this for very long as, apart from the massive drain on their power and focus, the body was not meant to do that and both men could feel the damage they were doing to themselves as the fight continued.

Mace realised then and there that he was going to lose and that fact was a rather bitter thing for him to accept. His opponent was just as fast as him, clearly much more powerful and much more experienced. If he didn't do something drastic then he knew that he would end up being dead or a prisoner very soon.

So he did something very unJedi like and underhanded. He called dust, blood and other loose detritus from the ground in a desperate gambit and as soon as he could whipped it round the man like a striking snake launching it at Harry's face and open eyes.

Then he darted in with his lightsaber leading the way trying to land a quick and final blow as quickly as he could. Unfortunately he did leave himself momentarily open to attack as he did so.

He didn't even have time to realise that Harry had been testing him and holding back all of this time as, instead of a feeling of victory, all he knew was that he had twin waves of burning with one quickly following the other before he was mercifully hit on the head and blacked out.

-LAFA-

The two Jedi on the field were captured and with that Harry knew that the Dominion had essentially lost. Despite the backroom deals with the Trade Federation and Republic intervention the Renegades and the Commonwealth had beaten the invincible Jedi and the only thing the Jedi Order gained from it was a heavily tarnished reputation.

As Harry looked down on the unconscious body of Mace Windu who now had cauterised stumps where his arms and legs used to be and then over to the bound Squire Kinning who was also missing a limb (an arm taken off at the shoulder joint) all Harry could think was how stupid and pointless this had all been.

The rumoured invincibility of the Jedi was now forever broken and the opinion that the common people of the Republic had for them was now lower than it had been in decades, perhaps centuries, with their famed Knights going home in both shame and disgrace.

All because the High Council wouldn't tell a corrupt Senate where to shove this ridiculous mission and when the effects of what had transpired here were fully accounted for the Commonwealth would have another ally in the Republic to boot.

The Knights had been kept sedated until the Commonwealth was ready to leave the planet after the Dominion had quickly collapsed before the strength of their enemy. It was too soon to tell whether the Renegades would be better than their predecessors but, quite frankly, it would be hard to be worse.

Soon the Jedi would be delivered home in a few smaller ships, still unconscious, ready to wake and be treated for their injuries in the Jedi Temple itself.

Once this happened the Sith would be happy as they could use this discontent and breed more of it for and among their hated foes but, on the downside for both Harry and the Commonwealth, they would only grow more and more interested in the Commonwealth's droids.

For the war that would soon begin.


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32: Time Moves On And The Child Of An Old Friend

 _A/N: With a pregnant wife and a string of illnesses this chapter has taken longer than expected but this story is almost done. Still I have learned my lesson and I will fully write out my next story before posting...  
_

32 BBY

3,621 ATC

Tatooine

Qui-gon Jinn was too old and too philosophically minded to deal with this new threat or at least that was what he told himself as he watched his exuberant and youthful Padawan putter about the ship and soothe the startled and fearful minds of its passengers especially that of the young Anakin Skywalker.

The Sith had returned with this tattooed assassin and he had done his duty and informed the Council though it was with a shadow on his heart.

He had wanted to shake his head a their folly as they were first cautious and then outright dismissive of his warning of a Sith preferring instead to believe that it was simply a well trained Dark Jedi or (more accurately) someone who had been trained as such. They could not conceive of their ancient enemy returning, not really, not yet.

Then again, he thought wryly, the Jedi are not what they once were.

That was not to say that the Jedi were bad or malicious in any way. They still helped as much and as often as they could and he chided himself mentally for even thinking that but they used to be so much more than they had become.

However the golden days of the Jedi were long gone. The days of the Shan family gently guiding the Order and the Republic, the redemption of Revan and even the Army of Light were long gone. They had become legends, whispered stories and fanciful tales rather than the lessons that they were supposed to be.

Worse the majority of the Jedi, including the Grandmaster himself, not only (rather blindingly in his opinion) refused to see the stagnation at all and instead insisted that the Jedi were now stronger than they ever were.

Sitting in his personal sleeping quarters on his bed he thought about that and he knew that he was unable now (and would likely never be able) to get them to see it and part of the reason for that was he honestly had no idea when the decline started or what had caused it to speed up in the last few centuries.

He had no idea where the Jedi had gone wrong. There were just too many possibilities in his mind. It could have been the Senate's corruption, the adoption of the simpler code, the many minor wars and resulting loss of knowledge, the fact that the Sith had (until this moment) disappeared or it could have been something that he was completely unaware of.

While he was lost in his depressing thoughts his hands, unconsciously and restlessly, caressed the small circular object that he held in his palm almost as if he was trying to decide whether it (and the mess of trouble it might contain) was worth the fallout that it would likely cause.

When he noticed what he was doing he was honest enough with himself that he had already decided what he was going to do and accept it.

Unknown to any Jedi living, save perhaps Grandmaster Yoda himself, this small metallic object was very very old and it all related back to his own personal history which was both very well known and as it happened very wrong.

True he was the former Padawan of Master Dooku and it was also true that under the man he became a Jedi in full but what was not widely known was that Master Dooku wasn't his first master but rather his _second_.

That may have been why their relationship had started off so...impersonal…but perhaps, he reflected, it was always going to be that way.

He still had good memories of the one beautiful year that he had been the Padawan of Jedi Master Fornan and, unlike his cold and formal relationship with Dooku, he had truly bonded with his first teacher.

It was only when the man had lay dying from a poorly maintained reactor explosion on the Outer Rim that Fornan had passed on the disk that he currently held and told him of its history although most of it was relayed through a holographic data crystal that had come with the disk.

It told of a friendship lost in blood, lies, political maneuvering and death. It was unreservedly critical of Grandmaster Coven and of Jedi Master Yoda (as he was then) to name but a few.

The hologram, of famed Jedi Knight Arstonia, spoke of the Traditionalists and the Progressives including a comprehensive list of both their strengths and weaknesses while clearly trying to refrain from giving in to any bias for one side or the other.

In fact the speaker went out of their way to be as dispassionate about the whole affair as they could possibly be and to not comment about which ideological path was the better way despite eventually becoming a Progressive herself.

More than anything else though the disk spoke of the charismatic and handsome Jedi Lord and why he had both left the Jedi as well as the disk behind with her. Qui-gon himself was the last in a long line to be gifted with it but circumstance, perhaps the will of the Force itself, had caused his master to pass it on far earlier than custom dictated.

Arstonia Evon was a legend in her own right, even more so than almost any other Jedi of that time period except William Potter, and one of the things that that made her so was her blunt and honest way of speaking.

That was why he believed every single word that the Hologram had spoken. Sadly given the nature of the somewhat recent shift to the Dark Side that the Force had taken he thought that the truth that she spoke and the secret that his line of Jedi had kept was better buried for now.

Fear and suspicion were far too common in these days especially concerning such ambiguous historical figures. Some historians distrusted that first generation of simplified Jedi while others, in their philosophically detached way, argued that it was possible (but unlikely) that she and William Potter were the last known pinnace of the Jedi Order.

Sadly they were an extreme minority as well as ignored by almost all and with tensions growing especially in the Outer Rim all such discussions had been discarded in the pursuit of peace.

So for years Qui-gon had never spoken of it and though he believed that the 'Progressives' had weakened the Jedi _and_ that everything that the Hologram said was true he simply did not have enough proof _of_ its authenticity for the suspicious Council. Besides, even if they believed him, that did not necessarily make his suppositions true and the debate over that would be far less certain to come out in his favour.

He had therefore buried the disk in his personal belongings and tried to forget about it. There was an old adage...every single question that is answered produces more questions. Over time his questions grew even if he didn't want them to.

Added to that, as times got more and more unsettled and the corruption of the Senate more obvious, he found that whenever he left the relative safety of the Temple that he kept it on his person or in his bags (like most of the Jedi before him) just in case it was needed.

With a steely look and a frown he tried to banish his thoughts. He then proceeded to press the half concealed button on the back of the disk and watched fascinated as runes that had been hidden for centuries burst into glowing life around the disk.

The Sith had returned, he thought, and they are hunting me. Now is the time.

Thoughts of the Sith lead him to remember the duel on the sand that they had only just barely escaped and he hoped that help would come soon.

As he watched he couldn't help but notice that the runes had not only begun spinning but that they appeared similar to the few examples of those that they had seen on Commonwealth technology which led him to muse on the idea that they really had no idea how many there truly were or how old that language was especially if they could be hidden for so long.

Soon enough the glowing runes slowed settling into a particular pattern and then somehow morphed into a flowing script that he could read before his very eyes.

 _Aid is on its way. Keep this on you. Aid is on its way._

Qui-gon sighed softly hoping that whatever aid came would be enough.

-LAFA-

Coruscant

At the same time that the disk was pressed Mace Windu was in the training room, still tinkering with his fairly new lightsaber form of Vaapad. As he moved from one swipe to another his footwork was superb and his every movement fluid showcasing one of the many reasons why he had recently been granted a seat on the Jedi High Council.

He had also, for doing something that no Jedi had done in living memory, been granted the title of Jedi Weaponmaster.

It had taken him time to come to grips with both his new limbs (covered in synth skin of course) and using the Force through such impediments but he had managed and had arguably become both stronger and wiser for it.

Ionize alluded his skillset now of course but, aside from that, he had _at least_ as much power as he used to have. Added to that he now knew every small movement of his body intimately and now knew how to control it better than almost any Jedi alive.

And as a byproduct of all of this he had managed to master all seven known lightsaber forms further justifying his new title as Weaponmaster.

Still the fight with the Silver Prince haunted him every now and again. No matter how powerful or skilled he had become he knew that he was miles and miles behind the skill that Potter had so negligently shown.

Of course the position of a Jedi, let alone a Jedi Master on the High Council, was not awarded due to combat skill alone (it wasn't even a necessary requirement) but rather to how he recovered and then handled himself after his injury.

Mace had thrown himself into improving his skills. It wasn't for revenge but rather taking to heart the rather bitter lesson that there was always someone better. That he had managed to let go of any ill feeling and instead dived into his duties with a renewed passion was more than noted as it was seen as a true mark of the man he was becoming.

He threw himself into diplomatic duties, meditation and teaching with a passion that far outstripped the level of dedication he had shown before and had even managed to impress Yoda with the strength of his zeal. He had impressed even more when he had, somehow, found time to train a padawan alongside all of his intense study.

To be fair he had been training her before he began to refocus his life after his injury but she hadn't managed to accompany him as Billaba had been sent on her own mission. The separation of Padawan and Master for short periods was not common but, given the nature of their work, was sometimes necessary.

He was proud of her though as she had managed to join the High Council herself less than a year before.

As he turned off his lightsaber, placing it gently on a small side table in the sparring room, he began to towel off his sweaty face while masking a spike of irritation as he saw one of the last people that he wished to see moving towards him with her customary purposeful stride.

As one star rises another falls. That thought whispered in his mind even as he studied that hard and unforgiving face of Master Kara Durvan. Still, his thoughts continued, that is hardly my fault as she would likely still have my place on the High Council if it wasn't for her unorthodox and hostile views.

The years had not been kind to the once handsome woman. Although never classically beautiful her striking face was now marred by frown lines and her features seemed almost eternally cast in a strong and unforgiving scowl.

Her harsh eyes, which he once remembered shining at him with concern and caring, were now pitiless and missed nothing. It was as if time had worn away all of her warmth and left nothing but cold hard steel underneath.

"Master Windu" to his ears even her voice had changed, becoming as dry and aridly cracked as a harsh desert, there was even a low note of danger in it. "The High Council is well I trust?"

"They are" he answered with clear warning in his voice "as you would know if you would return to the duties of a Jedi".

"I _am_ doing the work of a Jedi" she responded calmly. "It is our paramount duty regardless of any other mandate to seek out and stop any resurgence of the Sith in the galaxy".

Mace stared at her for a moment in silent contemplation before (and perhaps taking comfort in the calmness of her tone) deciding to broach the subject that had seemingly both consumed her as well as, in his opinion, led her to being relieved of her temporary seat on the High Council.

"This obsession of yours has become unhealthy and I fear dangerous for you. Take the advice of an old friend...let it go".

"Let it go?" she said and only as she said those words did Mace realise that he had erred in thinking that she was calm. "The _Sith_ have returned and you want me to ignore my highest duty and let it go!" she all but screamed.

"Calm yourself" Mace's voice was like cold ice against the fire of the near rage in her voice. To her credit she did look chastised, if only for a moment, at her own emotional outburst. "This… display….is neither becoming of a Jedi nor is it helping your argument".

"Will you at least listen to my argument?" she asked in an almost pleading tone of voice.

"Very well" Windu answered even as he held back a sigh "but I warn you I am more than a little skeptical. Hubris it may be but I do not believe that the Sith could have returned without the Jedi knowing about it even with what Qui-gon has seen...it is much more likely his enemy was a dabbler...an experienced one but a dabbler nonetheless".

"I am _not_ talking about some half educated assassin in the desert" she replied with a cold intensity "I am talking about this".

With that she reached into her high quality but rather tattered robe and pulled out a small holo-projector that, with a flick of her thumb, blazed into life.

The structure that was formed above it was immediately recognisable not least because its architecture was unlike any building that surrounded it on the Republic's capital. The fact that it had strange symbols, called runes, pressed into its makeup and predominantly on its main archway with (it had to be assumed) many more hidden inside as well as out.

It was also made of the almost vanishingly rare (inside the Republic's borders anyway) New Atlantis steel sheathed in phrik. The fact that the particular combination of metals was artistically stylised in no way took away from the rarity and versatility of its construction.

It could have been confused as a cathedral at a distance if the viewer overlooked the fact that it was also clearly heavily fortified.

It was the newest Chapterhouse of the Knights of the Silver and it was standing tall and proud on Coruscant.

"How does the Chapterhouse and the de facto embassy of a foreign power relate to the Dark Side?" Windu asked.

"It relates when the leader of the Commonwealth is a Sith Lord" she stated with iron purpose.

"There is not even the slightest shred of proof to support your assumption. If anything the construction of the Chapterhouse highlights the problems _within_ the Republic. As well you know the rumblings of discontent in certain sectors prompted the Senate to renegotiate the deal they had with the Commonwealth".

"And that required us to give them an embassy?"

"The Senate asked for an extra ten percent on all goods traded by the Commonwealth, in part as a stockpile against future trouble within our own borders, and didn't have the money in their budget to pay for it without cutting the economy to the bone. This was the compromise." His reply was just as hard as her own.

"Proof?" She asked with scorn and neatly ignoring his point. "Just look at what has happened since William Potter entered the Temple, since his family introduced us to Cadi as it was then known, and tell me that's not proof. The Great Financial Collapse, the defamation of the Jedi Order not once but many times, the formation of these so called _Knights_ and even the dark shroud that fell over the Force ten years ago".

"You are attributing blame for events that the Commonwealth had no clear part of and are doing so motivated less I think for the Republic but rather your own personal dislike. Do not bend history to suit your narrative" he warned.

"Is that what I am doing? Is it merely coincidence that all of these events happened after the arrival of the first Potter to the galactic stage?"

"Perhaps…. Perhaps not. All you can suppose from your line of thinking with any certainty is that there _could_ be a reaction to the emergence of the Commonwealth as a factor in some of those events and that is hardly a true indictment of the Potters. Besides the Republic is, at present, beholden to the Commonwealth in many ways...such accusations must be carefully considered".

"And no measure to stop trade with them has been proposed" she cried latching on to the downside easily enough for her argument. " Over 70% of our blaster gas is now bought in trade from them. Does the fact that they have that much free to sell not worry anyone at all? We had enough trouble with the last bad deal that was entered into with the Commonwealth and I shudder to think what will happen when this one goes bad".

"The contracts have been meticulously poured over by our finest legal minds and steps against economic problems have been taken. If another collapse was to happen the Republic even has stockpiles that should last until they have found their own supply from fresh mines" Windu stated.

"How can you defend them after what they took from you?" Kara replied switching her tack to a more personal argument. "I thought that of all people you would understand my point of view".

"What do you want me to do exactly?" Windu asked exasperated with the conversation.

"Present my argument before the Council again...maybe coming from you it will have more effect. Things have changed anyway as with the shroud over the Force our ability to sense the future has been...damaged. Day by day it becomes much harder to see or to direct in any way. Faced with that uncertainty we must not only stand united but realise that we can not have an uncertain power at our doorstep".

"Is that your idea or Senator Palpatine's?" Windu questioned.

"It is no secret that we talk. I find his views helpful and he clearly cares about the Republic but..I think we can all agree that the quickest way of destroying the shroud is to eliminate or strip the Force from the Sith that made it".

"And you believe that it is Potter?" he asked even and she nodded quickly. "So you would do to him what his ancestors did to yours?"

"I'll freely admit to a sense of poetic justice in it if that's what you mean. Surely you have seen the other side of the Commonwealth's generosity and know where it _must lead_ surely…"

"What I have learned" interrupted Windu "are the dangers of hubris as well as acting before thinking things through to their conclusion. That is why, even though I do not personally believe that the Sith have returned, I will be watchful but I will not help you".

His voice, which was full of calm compassion, was pitched to soothe but instead it seemed to send her into an anger that was approaching true rage.

"Then you have learned nothing" she spat. "Do you really think that the Commonwealth will be easy to control when they show their true colours at last? The time to easily deal with them has long passed and truthfully it only existed back when either William Potter first left the Jedi or when Cadi was struck from the records".

"I am afraid" began Windu "that I don't see your point".

"The point is that there are now over 400,000 worlds in the Commonwealth. The Jedi alone cannot stop the nation but we must stop the leaders who _are_ Sith. We must stop both Harry and Luna Potter from corrupting more generations as they turn them to the Dark Side of the Force".

Windu slowly looked down at his mechanical hands and then past them to his feet as he carefully considered his reply.

"You know… it took much more skill for Harry Potter to disarm me and remove both my arms and my legs rather than simply kill me. On top of that the remaining Silver Knights could have easily killed Squire Kinning but they instead only took his arm. I believe that it was not only intentional but has led, however indirectly, towards my elevation to the Council and to Kinnings rank of Knight. To me these are not the actions of someone drunk on power or a Sith".

He then looked directly into her eyes with steel in his gaze "My answer is still no".

"Then you are twice the fool that I thought you were. I may not have allies amongst the Jedi yet but I will. How many worlds on the Outer Rim are practically abandoned due to the amount of people leaving for the Commonwealth? How many more have to leave before our borders are forced to shrink? They are the rising power and I will, no matter what, protect both the Jedi and the Republic from their own folly".

A gobsmacked Windu watched her leave angrily before deciding to report the entire disturbing conversation.

Durvan, for her part, was off to speak to the one person who would still listen to her and could give her reasonable advice. He was the only person who showed her deep understanding and not only actually cared but was also the only true friend that she had left.

Senator Palpatine.

-LAFA-

The Commonwealth, not being the Republic or the Jedi, had a much better understanding of the reasons behind the problems that beset their nearest neighbour at the moment. As they were not currently the cause of those problems (or at least not the most pertinent ones) it was still difficult for them in other ways.

Though they knew that the Sith Order was responsible they had centuries of experience in covering their tracks, though they did have several units of Knights and intelligence agents hunting down every rumour and gap of information that they could find.

After all some things could be reconstructed from the hole they left in the information net if nothing else.

The Chapterhouse on Coruscant was there not so much to foster good relations (though it did) but to gain more information. That was why it just so happened to be right beside the Senate building.

Despite the fact that they had many people on the problem the Commonwealth still had no idea who the Sith actually where though both Harry and Nic had their guesses. It was not really surprising though as the Banite Sith had been in hiding since the Army of Light and the Brotherhood of Darkness had clashed almost one thousand years ago.

Though the Jedi were now a shadow of what they once were and the Sith themselves were far from their strongest (thanks to both Darth Gravid and the much lesser damage Harry had done under their tutelage) they had both once been the mightiest of the mighty.

On balance the Sith had more of their old strength and used it to its fullest to remain obscured.

Though it was causing trouble both with training and discipline among the Knights the shroud was designed to blind Jedi (or those that relied nearly completely on the Light Side) so it was not a great problem for them but rather an annoyance.

Yes it was more difficult for the Padawans of the Order and emotions ran to the surface far too easily but they, unlike the Jedi, could still see the future (though with added danger of falling to the Dark Side of the Force).

The Jedi on the other hand were rapidly losing all ability to see the future with only the strongest able to gain fragments of what might never come.

The Knights of the Silver kept this secret though as, if they were asked by anyone, they firmly told anyone who would listen that they too were losing their ability.

So, with the new factory worlds churning out more and more new troops and ships, they didn't miss the rising darkness that was permeating Coruscant and were already on a semi war footing where the Republic dithered.

They also didn't miss the Force's scream of defiance at being wrenched and manipulated in such a fashion though the Jedi did as it was swiftly swallowed by the darkness.

Then came the greatest travesty and the Force's revenge...the creation of the 'Chosen One'. where the Sith clearly wanted a new life of great Force Potential to manipulate it would not be so easily abused and caused the child to be born elsewhere and far out of the reach of (for the present moment) the Sith.

The search for the child was underway for two of the sides in this three way ideological battle even as the Jedi continued to bicker and focus on the lesser of the two problems oblivious to the greater issue.

The race was one that Harry and the Royal Council intended to win.

-LAFA-

The war was nearly here.

Harry could feel that in his bones and to him with his senses so used to searching for traces of the conflict to come the air practically sang with the tension of it. It's shadows had already begun to reach out into the greater galaxy as he walked arm in arm with his wife through the peaceful oasis that was their home and, in many ways, that they had created together.

"Why won't he accept it?" Harry said quietly to the empty air.

He knew the answer of course and, if circumstances had been different for him, he might have made the same choice but it didn't make it easier to accept.

He hadn't meant for Luna to hear him but, after all the time that they had spent together, she picked up on his disquiet easily enough and chose to answer him.

"He wants a normal life" she replied obviously talking about their son, Lord David, who at eighteen was currently serving with other more senior Knights in the Border Defense Forces. "Functional immortality is the right choice for us right now love but it is a path we both chose freely and no one is meant to live forever. We have to respect his decision".

"I still don't have to like it though" grumbled Harry thinking about their eldest twins (and only sons) choice. Both siblings had inherited their parents gifts in both the Force and magic in full measure being somewhere between the two of them in raw power. "His sister agreed easily enough".

"Sarah is not her brother" was Luna's simple reply even as she sighed and looked deeply into her husbands face fully understanding as her heart was battered by the situation too. " I can only repeat what he has told us. What he wants is to find a nice girl _without_ forcing her to choose him and the family secret of our immortality over her own relations and people that she genuinely cares for."

She stopped walking with him and, giving him her frankest look in the entirety of her marriage, continued. "I could even state the other twenty odd reasons that he came up with but you know them as well as I do. I could even point out that if we ever wish to hand over the throne to him it would be far better for all involved that he was completely mortal but...as I said...you _know_ all of this".

"If there is one thing that I have learned" Harry began slowly "its that understanding is only important if it leads to acceptance and I have to accept this don't I?"

"We both do dear one" she said softly while stroking his cheek "though it's hard for me too".

"We could just offer immortality to everyone that they cared for" he argued half heartedly but they both knew what a slippery slope that would become and what it would most likely eventually lead to.

Luna for her part snorted at the weak argument before shaking her head.

"And then what? Aside from everything else things would go wrong and eventually we would have the bane of immortal serial killers to deal with. Haven't we done that already with Voldemort?" She challenged. "Don't look at me like that..I'm deadly serious...it is human nature that mistakes would be made and a few bad apples would make it through so don't act like this is news to you".

"Some would argue that we already have an immortal serial killer" he whispered.

"Then those people would be stupid" she argued back "you were not yourself and, the minute you realised it, you broke those chains and helped create all of this".

"I still remember it" He replied and, for a brief moment, his mind was assaulted with the smell of death, the stench of blood and the memories of the horrors he had inflicted.

"Some wounds never truly heal" she answered sagely.

"Imagine" she said in a deft maneuver to turn the subject back to point "what the Jedi or, Force forbid, the Sith would do with such knowledge let alone the Republic or the Senate".

He remained silent and her eyes softened as she looked at her usually strong and sure husband. He was more reminiscent in that moment of the young child in a cupboard under the stairs who cried from his beatings and wished for a family than he had been in many many years.

"His decision is not your problem though is it love? Rather it's the consequences of it".

"Is it so wrong of me" he began sounding lost "that I don't want our son to die? That I don't want to stand over his grave and look like his son or grandson?"

"Of course it isn't but...we both knew the price, all those years ago, for the choices that we made when we first became what we are and when we had children and we did it anyway".

"All things have a price" Harry said with deep bitterness "and it's one that we have to keep paying".

"But everything balances in the end" was her simple reply.

"Everything must balance" he agreed "but the balance is rarely kind".

"Agreed" she said with all her heart even as his face turned pensive and solemn and she knew that what he was about to say would be hard for them both.

"No more children please?" He half asked and half begged. Luna took a long moment in the ensuing silence to think, truly think, about what she would say next.

She loved her children as much as Harry. Images of her belly growing as she carried them, of playing with them, teaching them to read and love books, the day that they had both chosen to try and become Knights of the Silver and all of the quiet times that they had shared as a family flashed in her mind's eye.

She wanted more of those with all of her heart and as many times as she could.

Then she thought about having to bury each and every one of them and almost instantly all of that day dreaming turned to ash for her as she saw an unending graveyard in their future. That and a sea of bittersweet memories was all that she would be left with, she realised, aside from Harry and the few (never enough for either of their tastes) who would walk the same difficult road.

"No more children" she said finally.

-LAFA-

The new _Patience_ was a marvel of Commonwealth engineering and ingenuity which was hardly surprising as it came straight out of one of the experimental factories. Like all of the new ships it was designed with both the latest in cutting edge enchantments, runes and Modular Technology.

The latest advancement that had just been put into mass production and was a natural evolution from the blending of both the Mod Tech and magic.

Like the majority of the new ships it was in the rough shape of a black diamond as even the largest ships (still called _Centurions_ ) now looked like that but the smaller ships including the patience were different in one key aspect.

Though it had proved impossible, both logistically and in terms of time, to do the same to all of the ships the smaller ones (like the _Patience_ ) could now shift between two configurations in a matter of seconds.

It had all started with an off hand comment by Dobby of all people as he had been reminiscing with both Neville and Harry about the room of requirement. Soon the Commonwealth engineers had started experimenting with expansion charms and the idea had ballooned from there.

The _Patience_ had a freighter configuration that was very similar to it's progenitor in style and like it the black hull had the same blue and bronze paint job. It did have a smaller more weaponized form that was essentially a heavily armed three person shuttle craft.

This was the configuration that it was currently in as it was both faster and better able to cloak than its less manouvrable counterpart.

The most novel part of this new design was that it exploited magics tendency to react poorly with simple (relative to the Republic's technology anyway) unshielded electronic current as, at the push of a button, a small electrical charge would hit either the expansion or shrinking runes layered throughout the ship.

That, combined with even more advanced and protected machines that moved the relevant parts into place or back into storage, was essentially the secret of the new technology.

This all led to the happy fact that he had two ships in one.

The downside of that was that not only did some systems only work for one configuration or the other but that the magical batteries that Harry, Nic, Droid Hermione and Luna had spent so long struggling to create couldn't handle the massive power requirement for long.

That meant that even with Magi like Harry on the ship the magic could not be used to enhance the shields (as they did on larger ships) and, once exhausted, the batteries would need a full day in a magical environment or a month around Magi without it to recharge.

Four times were all the _Patience_ could manage before it reached that point.

Added to that all the magically enhanced systems would then fail. There were mundane redundancies that would hold for a short while of course but they were nowhere near as good and the _Patience_ would be far too vulnerable for his liking.

At the absolute worst he could take the magic from one of the magically enhanced missiles if he didn't care that it wouldn't buy him all that much in terms of power and he was okay with the likelyhood of blowing himself and perhaps everyone in the nearby vicinity up.

Life support and navigation were the only systems hardwired to work without any of the twelve miniature magical batteries working from the get go and those same batteries also formed one of two ways in which the ship could self destruct if it was needed.

Even though it wasn't the original it was still Harry's personal ship and he liked it very much. Its interior was littered with small personal touches that reminded him of a time when he had far fewer responsibilities.

Harry grinned happily as he moved smoothly around his training room having finished his morning run and transitioned smoothly into working through every lightsaber drill that he knew, first with one hand and then the other, before moving on to Force and magic drills.

Both he and Luna were aware that as their other responsibilities were only increasing as time went on and now that they had almost full contact with the Republic the stakes were only getting higher.

Now was not the time to get soft.

They had stepped up their training as much as they could both separately and together. More than that they had both taken their personal battalions to the borders of the Commonwealth and spent long periods on active patrol despite the Royal Council's objections.

They had done this four times over the past ten years (separately of course as both wanted at least one parent at home for their growing children and to represent their views on the Council) for anywhere between six months to a year at a time.

It has paid off, thought Harry, as I am in the best shape of my life and I am more grateful than ever for the holocrons that I have picked up over the years as they have helped to further deepen my connection to the Force.

When not training themselves (they even took the holocrons with them when on patrol) they were teaching their children all they could about politics and statecraft. They were also not shy in taking them out to simply see the galaxy, at least within Commonwealth borders, and spend time simply enjoying being a family.

Still, he thought, there were troubling things on the horizon hence the Chapterhouse on Coruscant.

Still it was effective as, at Harry's last count, due to its wards and runes they had caught one hundred and fifty two spies. It was disturbing to say the least that the majority of them worked for parties or companies that, when traced, seemed not to have ever existed.

On the plus side it did provide a relatively easy and legal means for anyone who wished to emigrate from the Core Worlds though not many did given the relative comfort in which a large portion on those worlds lived.

It did require them to renounce their Republic citizenship officially and of course get their mandatory tattoos.

It was quite a headache for the Council to set up, he remembered, as not only did the Jedi object to what I was doing (which was to be expected of course) but so did some very vocal members of the Senate that were not traditionally allied with the Jedi as well as many mercantile and paramilitary groups that had bought and paid for Senators.

Then there was the heat from his bracer and the amulet that had been with the Sith for so long.

When he had visited Coruscant as an official Commonwealth diplomat for the very first time five years ago and stepped onto the Capital's soil he had felt his bracer warm. It had taken him a long slow moment to realise exactly what that meant as it had been so long since he had set it up.

When he did he smiled slightly even as he began shaking politicians hands (mostly bribed ones though some were blackmailed as he was on Coruscant after all) at the official ribbon cutting ceremony.

Snapping out of his memories he entered the cockpit as the computer stated in a bland voice that they were nearing their destination he mentally prepared himself for what he was about to face.

The blockade on Naboo.

He activated the ships cloaking device before his ship could be detected and ordered the ship to begin to assemble the parts of the fifty JK-XI droids that he had brought with him.

Luna and the Council had wanted him to bring more than that. She had wanted him to take at least three hundred and was not pleased when he reminded her that the scout/shuttle configuration wouldn't take that much and, at simply taking fifty, the smaller version of his ship would be uncomfortably stuffed.

The Council, in his opinion, were even more ridiculous as they wanted him to bring not only the Sabre Battalion but also the full crew and compliment that came with the _Silver Flame_ as well as the ship itself.

He had felt like he was arguing with small children when he had patiently explained why he could not. He had pointed out, quite effectively he had thought, that this was a personal errand so he couldn't justify using Commonwealth resources.

When they had still protested he had continued by asserting that _if_ he had done so then the presence of a Commonwealth Battlecruiser would cause a very large and messy diplomatic incident even before you added the presence of the Knights of the Silver whereas he could always argue, if pressed, that he had taken a small security force to protect himself as he retrieved an ancient family heirloom if he did things his way.

A diplomatic incident like that would also be all the justification that some in the Republic would need to declare war.

He personally hoped that, if or when war came, that not only would the Commonwealth be the defender rather than the aggressor but also that the droids and the almost two million Magi (though of them only around a quarter were active fighters).

It also helped that he still had all of the organic soldiers and roughly 420,000 Knights of the Silver to fight as well. Both he, Luna and the Royal Council hoped that it would be enough.

-LAFA-

Qui-gon Jinn was in the battle of his life and he had been in enough of them throughout his life to know that it was not going well at all.

He felt that he was far too old for this kind of exertion especially as he was entirely the wrong discipline to be in such a heavily combat focused battle but with his padawan stuck behind ray shields he had little choice.

Thankfully he only had to hold out a little longer.

His opponent however was not making it easy to do. Where he had chosen both the Niman as his go to form and the path of the Jedi Consular which was the least skilled in combat (with notable exceptions such as Yoda) his enemy did not.

Not only did the strange fighter have a double bladed lightsaber that he barely remembered from holo recordings but was also exceptionally skilled in Juyo. The man was trained to a razors edge while Qui-gon was out of practice and outclassed by comparison.

Every blow shook his arms and felt like falling boulders as they battered his guard and every manipulation of the Force that he could think of failed as he couldn't keep his mind to shaping anything more than the most simple and crude ones that were swiftly discarded.

If the field didn't come down in time he would lose swiftly and badly. In his struggle to survive he had forgotten about the disk that he carried but, given that he was fighting for his life, he could be forgiven that.

-LAFA-

A few minutes earlier at the most Padmé Amidala was in deep trouble as well.

The fight to stop the exploitation of her planet and Viceroy of the Trade Federation had gone as well as could be expected so far. They had encountered heavy resistance almost from the first but they had planned for that and her small team as well as Captain Panaka had managed to push through and closer to the two faced Neimoidian that was both their oppressor and their goal.

That was of course where everything went wrong.

Three Droidikas and seven B-1 Battle Droids surrounded her small team and although they raised their weapons she reluctantly ordered them down. Looking at the inhuman eyes of the B-1's and the powerful blaster cannons attached to the Droidikas she knew that to resist at this point would only invite a massacre.

She still intended to resist of course, when the time was right, and would not make it easy for them. The so called treaty that they would try and make her sign would take days of torture and torment while she would be looking for an chance or excuse to turn the tables.

She was spared that agonising fate from the most unlikely of sources.

Droids with burnished silver frames engraved with the now famous (some would say infamous) symbol of the Commonwealth appeared from the other end of the corridor. The first that she knew of their arrival was EMP grenades landing amongst her enemies and flaring with their telltale blue hue turning her deadly threat into so much scrap.

The approaching droids were led by the equally renowned and, she admitted to herself very handsome Silver Prince. As much as she tried to stop herself she couldn't help, even in a situation such as this, idly wishing that he wasn't married.

"Are you alright?" He asked when he got close enough. She smiled at him and found herself wondering how exactly a voice could be so caringly filled with concern and yet almost musical at the same time.

Stop that, she told herself, not only is it inappropriate but I don't have time for this.

Her rational internal scolding did nothing to stop the traitorous butterflies in her stomach though thankfully she was able to control the blush that threatened to spawn on her cheeks.

"Yes" she managed to say in a almost normal tone but, mortifyingly from the half smile on his face,she gathered that he understood why her tone was only _almost_ normal.

"Where are the Jedi? Where is Qui-gon Jinn? Normally when someone asked her such direct questions and she hardly knew them the reply would be short, hard and mildly undiplomatic.

Yet when his melodic voice asked she answered without thinking.

"He went that way" she said stretching out her arm "with his padawan. They were fighting with another Force User...who had a strange red lightsaber".

"Thank you" he said before looking critically at the rag tag group before him. "Jk's protect the Queen at all costs and see her safely through her much needed meeting with the Viceroy".

"Yes my lord" said one of the droids in its synthetic tone and both it and it's fellows were already moving forward and assuming position around Naboo's Queen.

"But" she asked "Aren't you staying? Can't you take at least some of them with you?"

"No." Harry shrugged "Like it or not, in this moment, your life is far more important than mine". The he smiled a full roguish grin "Besides I have a foolish Jedi to save".

With that and in a Force enhanced blur Harry Potter was off to find both Qui-gon Jinn and Obi-wan Kenobi.

-LAFA-

Following vague or incomplete directions is almost always useless, Harry thought even as he slowed his pace at a dead end, still I do know ways around that.

Holding out his ring hand, palm up, he began to concentrate and silently chanted the point me spell in his head while focusing on the few images that he had seen (he _had_ kept track of Arstonia's 'family' tree if only from a distance and through spies) of Qui-gon Jinn.

A small green spark blossomed in the center of his palm before it quickly bent and reshaped itself into a distinct arrow shape and then he was off again in the direction it indicated as fast as his Force enhanced limbs would allow.

Soon enough Harry began to hear the hissing clash of lightsabers and the grunts and gasps of battle. It was always this way coming onto a lightsaber battle as the sounds were not only quite distinctive but also very loud.

The sight that greeted his eyes when he first entered the room in which they were fighting made him want to sigh.

The young padawan was trapped in the midst of several force fields while his master Qui-gon Jinn fought for his life against a dark cloaked Dathomirian.

Of course Harry was behind the fields himself and the stuck padawan was between him and the two fighting men. Life, thought Harry, would never make it simple for me to enter the fight even once now would it?

Harry could almost see the waves of power that was almost visibly pouring off both men and given their respective training both men's movements were fluid and crisp as they struggled to best each other.

It was clear though, even in the few exchanges that Harry witnessed, that barring some freak accident Qui-gon was going to lose even if it was mainly down to the twin facts that the Jedi's opponent was both much younger and clearly had been far more combat focused in his training.

Why do Jedi, thought Harry even as his hand dived deeply into an expanded pocket, always have try the hard way of doing things?

His hand whipped out of his pocket almost violently and sent a small metal sphere flying at the nearest computer terminal which happened to be a small black square that was near the first field emitters.

The line of spheres were originally created by both Luna and nic as a joke over his (comparatively at least) abysmal hacking skills but they had quickly become must have kit for anyone in the Commonwealths service from the lowliest Intelligence Agent to the most famed Knights or Magi.

The sphere launched an electronic spike that pulsed a light shade of red as it connected with the shields regulator subroutines and soon pulsed again...green this time.

Harry didn't even break the run that he began when it turned red and, with his lightsaber turned on and humming dangerously, fairly flew through the corridor as the fields closed in rapid succession barely a tenth of a second ahead of him and accidently knocking down Obi-wan as he did so.

He was just in time too as the assassin was in the middle of an attack routine that clearly was overwhelming Jedi Master Jinn as well as setting up the man for a killing blow.

His abrupt arrival was enough (with the distraction it caused) to turn what would have been a death blow into a deep wound on Qui-gon's body as he was able to use the fraction of hesitation in his enemy to turn his body.

It may have saved the man's life, at least for the moment, but the thrust did go clear through a portion of his lung and if he didn't get medical attention soon he would die and he fell to the floor in agony being reduced to a simple spectator for what was to come.

He was witness to an immediate and massive buildup of Force strength as the assassin was forced back because of Harry's furious assault on him with all the righteous skill that the Silver Prince could muster.

-LAFA-

This was not a battle of passion. This was not a fight of carefully gauged skill. This was instead a vicious and powerful brawl. It utilized every dirty trick and underhanded technique that Harry had picked up using these weapons over his very long life and coupled it with the very powerful blows that were the trademark of Form V (Djem So).

This turn of events had Darth Maul seething in hatred.

Truthfully it was unsurprising as Maul considered himself the ultimate master of Juyo and had used both his prodigious skill in it and double blade to destroy every enemy that came before him literally demolishing any enemy that came before him.

Here though even he a admitted master of his form found himself stymied. His hatred though deep was a petulant thing full of pain, loathing, self loathing and distress over how twisted his life had begun.

It simply could not overwhelm the iron will of a man that had nearly one hundred and sixty eight years to hone his craft.

Every blow that he tried to land was swatted aside like a small and annoying bug. Every thrust was countered, every dirty trick he tried to use was turned back on its user and, to his growing annoyance and shame, the fight hadn't been going on for even thirty seconds.

Maul used this new source of anger and hatred to escalate the fight even further increasing his reaction times and his skill. Instead of beating his foe down as he expected his new attacker simply met him blow for blow no matter what he tried.

Until suddenly he didn't.

-LAFA-

Harry smiled grimly as he used his forms power attacks to turn every blow his opponent tried back on him. His strong blows and swift counters were more than matching the erratic and Dark Side infused attacks and even the unpredictable nature of Juyo couldn't break Harry's sure and fluid footwork.

This was the main strength of Form V as well as its main weakness. You had to have the skill to match your opponent (or nearly so) and maintain that focus while simultaneously empowering your body with the mystic energy.

To do that and use Force Powers as well not only was very draining but also incredibly taxing to the practitioners willpower.

Thankfully Harry had both in spades compared to Maul.

First one emitter and then the other were almost surgically removed from Maul's weapon with agonising hisses. The smell of burned metal was extremely pungent as the small pieces of metal hit the floor with twin clinks.

Before Maul could react or do anything about his lack of usable weapon he was catapulted through the air as if his own defences against the Force were nothing more than wet paper. He quickly struck the wall furthest away from the injured Qui-gon and stayed there stuck.

"Master" said Obi-wan with his face full of concern and care as he rushed to his pseudo fathers side at last.

In the Padawan's defence he had been wary of entering an ongoing lightsaber battle that was so intense and delicate. He simply couldn't take the risk of distracting their ally and causing a turn in the tide of the battle nor would he anyway with his master so injured.

Harry found himself repressing a second sigh at the younger man's lack of tactical awareness as Maul was by no means dealt with yet. Then again, Harry thought, the sentiment is touching even if it is badly timed.

Thinking of Maul he turned to the Sith who was slowly breaking the bonds that held him to the wall with his still impressive, though nearly exhausted, powers.

"You know" said Harry while keeping a critical eye on the gasping and seriously injured Qui-gon "there is another way to the path that you are walking".

"I will _never_ serve the Jedi" growled Maul only to blink in shock at Harry's reply.

"And I never said you should" he shot back "after all I don't. I may not serve them but I am also not a slave to a madman and his diseased Order's quest for power at any cost. Many have fallen to the dark before but trust me, if you want it, there is _always_ a way to find balance".

As he finished his impromptu and heartfelt speech Maul broke free of his bindings and summoned Qui-gon's lightsaber from the ground where it had fallen when the man collapsed. The assassin tried to strike viciously at Harry hoping, no doubt, that surprise and speed would accomplish what skill had not.

"Well I guess that answers that" Harry said almost conversationally even as his oft hand blossomed a deep golden hue and he, almost contemptuously, disarmed the man with a small gesture of his saber holding hand. "Don't say I didn't give you a choice".

Mauls powers, weakened as they were, stood no chance against Harry's own powers. Harrys free hand slammed violently into his head and the power the blow carried him right back against the wall from which he had just escaped even as Harry followed him still holding his forehead.

Maul then began to scream. Not the scream of an injured or tortured man but rather that of a wounded and dying animal. The Jedi watched in shock as something happened before their eyes that they had personally never seen before.

Harry _ripped_ the Force away from Maul both blocking his access and gathering the left over power in the man's system. It became a small floating ball that slowly grew and bobbed gently behind Harry's head.

Then, getting his attention, Harry pierced Maul's mind through the crazed Sith's eyes and began to ruthlessly pillage it for information on the Sith.

Maul's mind was powerless and would ordinarily be easy pickings but, with the sudden loss of his Force ability coupled with being decimated in combat, his mind was a fractured crumbling mess of discordant information and images.

Grabbing information from his psyche was like trying to grab sand with a bucket that had no bottom.

Of course Harry could have waited for the man's mind to slowly reform from the great shocks that had pummeled it but, no only was the no guarantee that it would, he doubted he would have the time.

Besides, he thought grimly, not only would that likely require specialist mind healers but they would have to have easy access to Maul and given that I'm on a Republic world and in the company of two Jedi I doubt that it'll ever happen.

He did manage to get two things from the stewed mess that was Maul's mind (other than the man's name) was an impression of a cloaked figure and the name Darth Sidious. He also got a fleeting image of the Senate floor but that was about all he could get as the only consistent thing left in his mind was an ingrained and unyielding hatred of the Jedi.

He was about to give up and withdraw before he was gifted with one final piece of information. The ship _Scimitar_ , its location and an approximate image was quickly added to his mind. He decided then and there to dispatch droids to secure it straight away.

Ignoring the now practically comatose Maul he turned to the distraught Padawan and the dying Qui-gon.

"Obi-wan" he ordered "you _must_ …" Qui-gon's voice was ragged and even by simply looking at him Harry could tell that, unless he did something, the man was not long for this world.

"Sorry to interrupt" said Harry softly "but you wished for my help?"

"I...am...glad you came" gasped out Qui-gon in obvious pain even as Obi-wan watched him like a hawk while obviously having no idea that Harry had been called. "The...Queen?"

"Safe as far as I know. I did leave fifty of my droids with her for protection" Harry paused

And then brought the subject back to the dying man. "It would be a poor measure of my help if I were to just let you die today though".

"Nothing to...be...do-" even as Qui-gon gasped out those words Harry gestured to the grey ball of light that was the residual Force power that had been running around Maul's system until recently.

It quickly smashed into Qui-gon completely under Harry's control.

Both Jedi gasped. The elder of the two did so in shock and pain while the younger did so in wonder as the ball entered the wound and repairing it as it went.

"Is this how you have managed to live so long?" Obi-wan couldn't help but ask.

"No" Harry said with a smile that was half grimace (it was very difficult to control after all) and slipping back into the role of teacher well enough. "The reason for my longevity is well known. This is different, more related to a sort of condensed healing trance, though you can't perform it on yourself. It is very dangerous and long lost to both the Jedi and the Sith...though it does have an added bonus".

The last words that Harry spoke came out as more of a pained gasp than anything else and he stumbled, barely catching himself from falling, and exhausted even as Obi-wan looked down at his Master with shocked eyes.

The process that had clearly saved the man's life (there was now not even a trace of the wound now) had also managed to partially rejuvenate his body. It looked looked like Qui-gon had lost somewhere between twenty and forty years of wear and tear from his frame.

His hair that was once grey more than anything else was now back to the deep brown of his youth and many lines had disappeared from his face. Further tests would later show that the effect was more than skin deep as the man's internal organs had also lost much of the damage and stress that tended to accumulate over time. The regenerative aspects were permanent though any power boost (if any) would be very short lived.

"I'm alive?" Qui-gon asked in shock.

"You are" agreed Harry, tired but amused, while helping the man to his feet and calling Qui-gon's lightsaber back to his hand and passing it over with a smile.

"Could you teach me that?" asked Obi-wan eagerly imagining the many Jedi that might be saved from using such a technique.

"No...it's too dangerous. If your concentration wavers the results tend to be...explosive"

"Explosive how?" interrupted Qui-gon now curious as well.

"Death of the subject and the caster…extreme damage to this building" answered Harry to the deep shock of both. In truth he had understated it as, frankly, in the worst case scenario people wouldn't be cleaning up debris in the Palace they would be asking _what_ Palace.

"Why?" Qui-gon asked and Harry's eyebrow twitched from such a loaded question and he thought for a moment about how to respond.

"Let's just say that my family owed yours a debt and that it has now been paid. Added to that I like almost everything I have ever heard about you and was not going to let you simply die if I could help it".

"Obi-wan" said Qui-gon turning fully to his student "could you restrain the prisoner properly please?" After his padawan had left he turned back to Harry "And there is no price for this intervention at all?"

"Well" said Harry while going with his feelings (as Force Users often did) and trusting that the man in front of him could be trusted to keep his mouth shut... and possibly so much more. "I wouldn't say that as I have a few pieces of advice for you and something that I would like your word that you will discuss it with no other Jedi for at least a few years, preferably never, unless you can verify it through someone else".

"As long as the information does not _directly_ harm the Jedi or the Republic" Qui-gon grudgingly agreed after a few moments of hesitation.

"Then let's find the Queen and help her as we may before discussing other things at your ship shall we?" Harry asked smiling.

-LAFA-

If anyone noticed, in the battles aftermath, that ten of Harry's droids had gone missing they generally assumed they were lost in the battles that came in taking back Naboo from the trade federation.

After all the Federation may be neutralized and their droids scrapped but they still had sympathisers that had to be rounded up and most of them either had organic guards or small personal controls for their droid bodyguards.

In reality they were gone because they were busy disarming the traps on and then staffing the _Scimitar_ on it's trip into Commonwealth space so that Nic could get his hands on it. He and his people were itching to crack it open and make it reveal all of its secrets.

After Harry had protected the Queen and things had settled down a bit he found himself in a room with all the other 'Heroes of Naboo' and in conversing with them he was drawn to the puzzle that was Anakin Skywalker.

To his finely tuned senses the Force swirled around the boy in great waves, one moment joyous and inquisitive and the next almost grief stricken and lonely, Even untrained (or perhaps because of it) and at such a young age the boys grasp of the Force approached his own and would come close to eclipsing his own if not outright do so if he managed to get a handle on it.

Given the uncomfortable look on Qui-gon's face when he talked to the boy about his life before the Jedi the Jedi Master was well aware of it too and most likely believed him to be the 'Chosen One' .

No, thought Harry, it's something more than that...something to do with how the boy came to be with the Jedi in the first place.

He had his answer at the brief flash of guilt across Qui-gon's face when he probed both Anakin and Obi-wan to learn that it was a betting game with dice that had won Anakin's freedom though not his mothers. A simple act of fate Obi-wan called it and though Harry wanted to snort he managed to suppress the urge...though barely.

Still when he was finally alone with the Jedi Master he couldn't fault the man's reasoning (Chosen One aside) as someone that powerful would either have to be trained to use his power and think for himself or end up a tool of someone or something.

He didn't mention the obviously sensitive subject of being the 'Chosen One', sensing that he would get nothing but strong resistance about it from the man, or at least not directly.

"It would be better" began Harry while sipping the tea that Qui-gon had passed him "if the boy was trained by us rather than the Jedi". He soon realised that his attempts at sidestepping the subject were for naught with Qui-gon's next words

"He is the Chosen One" the aged Jedi rebutted leaning forward across the small table they were sitting round "He belongs with us".

Harry didn't need the Force to understand the man's mood. His easy going smile and genial nature had disappeared only to be replaced with a face of granite and steel in his tone. Clearly his viewpoint would not allow anything other than Anakin to be trained as a Jedi and nothing he could say would sway him on the matter.

"Perhaps" conceded Harry "perhaps not. I have some experience with Prophecy and I worry that this, rather than being a certain outcome, is more of the self fulfilling kind. What I mean is...if you teach him he is the Chosen One that _alone_ might make him one. No matter what else he is he is still just a boy...the weight of that responsibility alone could crush him".

"What would you have me do then...short of giving him over to you and yours?" Qui-gon asked curious at Harry's reasoning.

"Do not tell the boy….if he is the Chosen One _and_ that is set in stone it will not matter as he will bring balance regardless. If he is not that he will not spend his days either living up to an unreachable goal or moulding himself into what he is told the Chosen One should be. In fact make no hint of it to other Jedi and if others make the connection dissuade them from speaking of it".

"So the boy can grow into his destiny naturally...free of hinderance?" Qui-gon asked following his thoughts.

"Exactly. In furtherance of his growth perhaps...Jedi or not...the boy could come and train with us occasionally" Harry said _almost_ in an offhand manner.

"So you do believe he is the Chosen One then?" Qui-gon pressed.

"Truthfully? I don't know. But let's be honest here as it is just us. The Jedi are not what they once were and, if he is what you believe him to be, he will need a wider instruction at some point than the current Jedi standard".

Harry could tell from his new friends face that he was wavering in the idea of training Anakin only in the prescribed Jedi Arts but that, beneath that, he was still resolute in making him a Jedi first and foremost.

"A compromise then. Both you _and_ your future Padawan are welcome to visit the Commonwealth for specialist instruction when you deem yourselves ready...provided of course that swear not to speak of the training methods employed and obey all of our laws while in Commonwealth lands".

"Why would you do this for us...if you do not believe?" Qui-gon asked. He had a point as, since its very beginning the Commonwealth had never allowed anyone affiliated with the Jedi Order any access to its territory, not once, not _ever_.

"Frankly I like the boy" Harry said as he was both likable and Harry was not unaware of the parallels between Anakin and himself at a similar age. "More than that you are a Grey Jedi, at least ideologically, and I feel that you would reserve judgement on us and our methods. You also know first hand from my actions that though we are not Jedi we are not Sith or darksiders. I will only place two caveats on your visits… if you are not comfortable with something _say so_. We won't be offended as open minds are highly prized amongst the Knights of the Silver and that you and Anakin have the health tattoo that all citizens of the Commonwealth take".

"The first is no problem" Qui-gon said slowly. "As for the second? I'm afraid that I would have to know more about it?" The lilt of the man's voice changed at the last few words and turned the entire last sentence into a question.

"It's quite a simple application of the Force actually" Harry lied through his teeth while projecting an aura of complete and utter honesty. "Sith alchemy, what little we know of it, is actually a bastardisation and corruption of the techniques that it uses...though it is a comparatively minor form. It strengthens the body, which is probably why the Sith wanted it in the first place, making it more resistant to disease. As a happy byproduct it add roughly fifty years to the subjects lifespan..on average".

Of course it did more than that but Harry was not about to let Qui-gon know a secret that was known to so few _especially_ when he appeared on the fence about the whole thing. If he had not only would Qui-gon most likely refuse but he would also have questions about it that Harry didn't want to answer.

"Why do you demand this?" Qui-gon queried.

"Because it is the law" Harry shrugged. "While I could force through an exception for either allowing you in as you are Jedi or skipping the tattoos my Council would _never_ allow both and I don't even want to attempt it".

"Agreed" Qui-gon said at length before adding quite perceptively "but that's not what you wanted to talk about in private is it?"

"No it is not" Harry agreed. "The Jedi Order and the Commonwealth do not trust each other and while I like individual Jedi well enough" here he smiled at Qui-gon and shrugged "memories and history are funny things. You can't forget them even if you can bury them for awhile".

To Qui-gon in that moment Harry was not sitting next to him but rather far away and in another place reliving a trauma that had affected him deeply. The Jedi shook his head and reminded himself that this man before hm was far, far, older than he was and probably had seen more than he could ever hope to himself.

"This is about the advice that you want to give me?" Qui-gon said shrewdly.

"Yes and I must ask...again… that you tell no one. Wait a period of at least ten years if you must absolutely tell someone but, for now, be silent about what I am to tell you unless it can be verified elsewhere. Your word on it...as a Jedi".

"You have my word" Qui-gon replied after a long moment with both his face and voice set into a grave cast.

"Maul… that was the Dathomirian's name... _Darth_ Maul. his mind was fractured...disorganised… but I'm sure your people will try to get more later"

"You invaded his mind?" Qui-gon rebuked him.

"It was necessary" responded Harry unconcerned. "I did find something of interest though… be careful of any politicians or their aides interested in the boy… I had a disjointed image of something dire...there is a Sith who calls himself Darth Sidious and he is connected to or in the Senate".

"You said yourself that it was disjointed. He could have been delusional… it could have been a fantasy" argued Qui-gon half heartedly.

"Not likely and I suspect that, though both of us would like that scenario, you don't believe that it was the madness of a fractured mind that caused those images. Neither do I".

"Still that is a lot of detail for a fractured image...either you are _very_ good or it was left for you on purpose" stated Qui-gon playing devil's advocate.

"Really? You're suggesting the logical absurdity that a Sith left false memories in their mind just in case they were caught and their impressive defences were somehow breached?" Harry asked incredulously.

"And from the Republics point of view you are suggesting something just as absurd. Besides the Jedi would know" Qui-gon sounded much more sure than he felt _that_ Harry could sense easily enough.

"Would they?" Harry asked rhetorically before adding "And as one friend to another, albeit a new one, please choose a different Lightsaber Form to fall back on. I know you don't enjoy fighting and it is easy enough to become proficient but true mastery of it is one, if not the, hardest to achieve. In the warlike times to come it will get you killed".

Soon enough Harry's and Qui-gon's conversation turned to other things but, when Harry left, Qui-gon sat staring into his slowly darkening room for many hours completely lost in thought.

-LAFA-

Harry wasn't able to leave the ship straight away as he was stopped by the young Anakin Skywalker whose Force Presence was clouded with both fear and worry.

"Master Qui-gon said that you helped him" said the honest eight year old abruptly "is that true?"

Harry smiled down at the boy and once again internally marvelled at the power that the young human had yet to truly tap into. Whether it was actually going to be stronger than his was far too early to tell but it was clear that he would eventually become one of the most powerful.

"Yes I did. My wife and I like to help out when we can...if we can" Harry answered.

"Could you help me? It's not for me but my mother she's…"

"On Tatooine living as a slave I remember. It's complicated...you don't quite understand what you are asking" Harry responded.

"So you _won't_ help?" There was a clear spike in anger both in the tone of the boy's voice and the swirling energy surrounding him.

"I didn't say that" said Harry soothingly "but I want you to understand that my agreement with the Hutts is _very_ specific. If I do this she will be free _but_ she can never join the Republic or even rejoin Hutt Space as she would then be fair game for them to retrieve. Believe me when I tell you that they would love to have a Jedi, even one in training, both in their pocket and far enough away from them so they are not a serious threat".

"So I _can't_ become a Jedi?" Anakin's voice was pained.

"Of course you can. In fact I have just informed him that he and _whoever_ he brings as his Padawan are welcome in the Commonwealth where your mother will be required to live and they will be the first Jedi to ever do so. What I am saying is that you could talk to your mother, visit her even, and she would be free but for her safety she could never live in the Republic with or without you".

"But you would find her a good life wouldn't you? A free life?" Anakin's voice was almost painfully filled with hope and relaxed at Harry's firm nod. "Then please do it...I'll do anything you ask".

"She will be free within a week..you have my word. All I ask is that you study hard and learn as much as you can. Also, when you visit me, do so with an open mind can you do that?" Harry asked.

"Yes sir!" the boy almost squealed in happiness. "Thank you...Silver Prince".

"Harry" he corrected softly seeing the worry almost literally bleed away from the young boy had moved him deeply. "Friends should always call each other by their first names don't you think?" Anakin nodded with all the solemnity that he could muster.

"Harry?" the boy asked as he was about to turn away only and Anakin blushed as his new friends full focus turned back fully to him. "You said you have a wife? I thought that Jedi weren't supposed to do that?"

"Generally" Harry replied thinking of the few exceptions to that rule that he knew of "they are not. However there are paths other than the Jedi or the Sith and I took one. Always remember that there are other paths that are just as valid my young friend".

With that Harry returned home stopping only to buy out the contract of Anakin's mother who eventually (and joyfully) called her son who soon became , very grudgingly, Qui-gon's Padawan as the High Council thought that Obi-wan _might_ be ready for his trials.

When Anakin realised the enormity of his good fortune he broke down while talking to his mother as he was happier than he could ever remember.

The Jedi never did learn anything from Maul. Orders to transfer him to a very well equipped detainment and medical ship were received even before the Jedi had come close to Coruscant.

Sidious had his failed apprentice killed shortly afterwards not even giving him the dubious honour of killing him with his own hands though the recordings of Maul's wounded screams entertained the man for quite some time.

The scene was now set for a time of great change in the Galaxy. Ideologies would wither, people would die in agony and the universe would never quite be the same.

But times were uncertain, the story had not yet finished and the identity of the eventual victor remained unclear.


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33: Decisions, Dooku and Geonosis

 _A/N: Last Chapter before Xmas...  
_

22 BBY

3,631 ATC

Spero

Six Months Before The Battle Of Geonosis

The Silver Palace's Council Room had been temporarily transformed, at least superficially, for this one meeting.

The table as well as the chairs of the other members were gone and all traces of finery were taken down and stored. The room was cut down to its bare bones and now resembled a bright and airy space that was still somehow infused with a sense of darkness and foreboding.

Only Luna's and Harry's chairs were left and they were placed upon a raised dais like an ancient stronghold of a forgotten king or some half remembered warlord.

This was of course by design because, despite the fact that it was often stupid, many beings in the wider galaxy judged by their first impressions and with their next guest the entire Council had agreed that misdirection was key.

Their next guest was dangerous enough that, even here in the seat of their power, any advantage that they could get would have to be grasped with both hands especially if they could make it appear other than what it was.

Thanks to their own Intelligence Service they knew almost everything about the man and, though they would never tell him that information, it meant that any false assumptions that he made about them were to be actively encouraged.

This wasn't there first meeting with him (though it was the very first face to face one) and he was well guarded with his every single move watched both with those that he could see or sense as well as those he could not.

What little of Spero he was allowed to see was heavily censored and he was carefully herded when necessary from the places that he was not supposed to see. The man had tried more than a few times to carefully slip his guard and 'explore' but his watchers were more than up to the task of containing him.

When the man entered the room, seeing both Luna and Harry on their makeshift thrones, all he did was delicately raise one aristocratic eyebrow.

Everything about the man, from his bearing to every single item of the clothes that he wore, almost literally screamed old money and a refined taste that generally came along with it.

That man, a former Jedi and currently a so called political idealist, was better known by the family title that he had taken up upon leaving the Order.

His name was Count Dooku.

"So this is the hall of the Silver Prince and his Princess" said Dooku while projecting an artful air of disappointment in his voice. "I was expecting...more".

"So were we" was Lunas soft answer to the man even as her and her husbands senses, honed over the years, swept over the man. Their intense focus was delicate and neither needed to look at the other to confirm what they had gathered from it.

To almost anyone else Dooku would have appeared to be the political idealist that he claimed to be but they had studied the Force for far longer than him and they were far from infants when it came to hiding parts of who they were.

To the both of them his veneer (for that is what it was) was paper thin. His amateurish speeches and maneuverings were inept to those that had the full scope of information available as well as the ability to add it to their own.

Sadly for those in the Republic it was very very few.

Which was why they took this meeting, that he had suggested, in the first place and to scan him with their senses of course.

Though he may have once been a well respected Jedi Master they were not well known in this age for hiding their abilities in the Force although, in theory, anyone could hide their level of power or even (with extreme practice) what aspects of the Force's nature they drew upon.

It had become an obscure art that had many methods of practice and that was generally long lost to the Jedi as they didn't see the need for it.

If you were one of the Sith however it required an ancient but simple application of Sith Alchemy and intense concentration to give the illusion of being a harmless user of the Force's more benign applications or even to alter the signature in a myriad of ways.

Ways that were, at least in theory, as infinite as the Force itself.

Still that, or the related but simpler Clouding Technique, were things that Harry (and through him Luna) were intimately familiar with. Dooku in contrast, though at this stage it was impossible to know which method he was using, had not mastered either method yet as they could feel a deeper darkness flashing intermittently behind the hollow light of his own aura.

Both had no doubt that it would still fool the current Jedi Order including most, if not all, of their Jedi Masters though.

No matter how powerful or refined they thought they had become the truth was that the Jedi had been in a slow decline since well before the time of Revan.

At that time it had been a drip in the vast store of knowledge that had been accumulated (with notable exceptions like the devastation of Ossus and the damage done by groups opposing the Jedi) until the time of both the Reformation and the adoption of the simpler code.

When they had abandoned the old ways the slow drip had become a veritable flood with many things lost, abandoned or simply locked away and buried being deemed either too dangerous, no longer useful or worse no longer _needed_.

Which left the Sith, Yoda, Luna, Harry and a handful of others (mostly those that the married couple had directly trained) with senses fine enough to stand a good chance of seeing through the facade that the man had in place.

"Have you thought about my offer?" Dooku asked in his finely cultured voice and projecting a kind of dispassionate warmth.

"To create part of your droid army you mean?" Luna questioned.

"The Outer Rim is a very dangerous place as I'm sure you are aware" Dooku replied neatly avoiding the idea of a droid army by subtly stressing the need for protection over combat. "Surely you wouldn't deny the people some small modicum of safety...if not with your droids then by allowing us to purchase your designs".

"Surely your 'clients' do not need droids in such numbers?" Harry pressed not being moved from his questions by any subtle maneuvering.

"You will be _well_ compensated and these are uncertain times" Dooku's voice was flat and hard with all warmth gone as he clearly did not like any reference to him working for any outside interest.

"Our answer" stated Luna just as flatly "is no".

"Are you sure?" Dooku pressed and with a undercurrent of danger in his voice. "I make a very fine friend and I do not make for a good enemy. Think of the wealth that you could accrue...for the benefit of the Commonwealth of course".

"We" Harry said scowling even as twenty JK droids entered the room "are _very_ sure".

Dooku clearly calculated his odds in successfully pressing the issue and, not liking what his mind came up with, left in a huff of anger not even waiting for basic pleasantries to be exchanged.

-LAFA-

"Why was he really here?" Harry asked Luna as soon as they were both sure that the man had left. "He's not stupid enough to believe that we would ever sell him any part of our droids so I have to wonder...why the theatre?"

"Of course we wouldn't...not for his little rebellion anyway" remarked Luna. Their spy network was very aware of his plans to leave the Republic and form the C.I.S. (if not their true scope or endgame) and more information on their plans came in both very regularly and far too slowly for Nic's comfort.

"It appears" she continued "that three of the droids that he brought as part of his entourage 'malfunctioned' and were forcefully scrapped trying to enter the Hidden Vault of Knowledge. He _seemed_ most apologetic over the error".

The Vault could only be accessed by the Royal Council itself and held only the most sensitive or darkest information that the Commonwealth had developed or come across. It contained many artifacts that they had made as proof of concepts or discovered in their expansion and were simply too dangerous or radical to be widely known.

The fact that Dooku knew or suspected of its existence was hardly surprising as every large organisation (Force based or otherwise) had its store of sensitive and secret knowledge.

"From the small bits of data that we have recovered it appears they were after the two pieces of the Dark Harvester that we were able to find" Luna remarked.

"How did they find out we had them?" Harry asked scowling again.

"Though there is no sign of them breeching our security in any way we weren't exactly as subtle about retrieving them then as we would be now and there were traders in the area. He could have also found reference to it in an old archive...maybe even the Jedi's own and that could have had the hiding places listed in some form. From there it would have been a simple matter to put two and two together".

"Though they are interesting artefacts to study from a certain point of view there is a _reason_ that they are both locked away and why we never tried to back engineer the technology" Harry said hotly.

"Yes...either Dooku doesn't know enough about it or.."

"Or he's trying to rebuild it and believes that we have pieces that he is missing" Harry added finishing Luna's train of thought on the matter.

"It's not an unreasonable assumption" Luna remarked. "We do know that the Jedi have known for centuries that it was split down into its component parts and scattered to the far corners of the galaxy when they realised they couldn't easily destroy it. Given that they place little emphasis on 'ancient and antiquated history' these days it's not surprising he would look here".

"And" added Harry "we do have a remarkable (at least to the Republic) track record of making use of uninhabited, unexplored or underused sectors of the galaxy. We not only colonise them when needed but make them thrive. Still this bears watching more closely…"

"I'll take care of it" was her only reply.

-LAFA-

2 Weeks Before the Battle of Geonosis

Anakin Skywalker loved visiting Spero and at nineteen years old was acutely aware that he had learned so much more here than he could have in the Jedi Temple simply by going to the Commonwealth on a regular basis.

The peace that could be found here was unlike that which could be felt in the Jedi Temple. There the peace was an inverted thing with the Jedi Temple standing as a beacon of peace in a sea of chaotic sentients on the Republic capital.

On Spero it was more organic, for lack of a better term, than that as well as deeper than what the average Jedi thought possible. Here the feeling of peace and the Force itself seemed closer and was weaved throughout the entire planet. This meant that the level of contentment was both more powerful and seemed present in the very air he breathed.

It was hard to leave especially as he remembered the _almost_ antagonistic way the majority of the Jedi viewed the Commonwealth. Both he and Qui-gon had to win the right to visit Spero and even argued before the High Council itself.

After many hours of arguing about what they could learn and even more days seemingly wasted on a back and forth debate among their own members the Council had agreed primarily to discover more about the Commonwealth and its secrets.

Both Anakin and Qui-gon paid lip service to those orders as neither appreciated being used as spies. When they first arrived they were shocked that both Harry and Luna knew of their orders as well as their decision to effectively ignore them.

Sitting in the living room of the small house that had been his to use since his first visit just over a decade ago he was happily re-reading a datapad on the finer points of the Force in regards to purging toxins that his master had assigned him when he heard the door chime.

His pseudo uncle entered as he called out his permission to do so dressed, as always these days, with flowing yet functional robes and the silver circlet of his rule on his head.

"Hello Ani" Harry said even as the young man made a face not liking the reminder that he was once a child despite the fact that, given Harry's unique lifespan, it was almost an eyeblink for the man between then and his current stage of development. "How was your visit with your mother yesterday?"

"She is doing very well" he replied smiling slightly. "The restaurant is doing great, her husband is kind to her and though she is busy she is very happy".

"I'm glad" said Harry "it's wonderful to see how little help she has needed and how much she has thrived. She is a remarkable woman and I've tried not to interfere but I have kept tabs on her and her business has become the most sought after eating place in all of North Hold. I've even eaten there a time or two myself".

Anakin simply grinned being completely happy with his mothers success.

Growing up as a Jedi was slightly different than the norm for him. Not only was he the Padawan of the famous Qui-gon Jinn but he was also still (quietly mind you) in limited contact with his mother and though only the first was well known that, combined with having skipped the Initiates rank by being chosen so young, singled him out.

In other circumstances such treatment could have made Anakin prideful, even arrogant, but with the calm nature of Qui-gon's personality (not to mention his decades of experience in training a rambunctious youngster) and the steadfast support of the now Knighted Obi-wan Kenobi he had flourished into a kind as well as a truly humble young man.

That being said he was still a young man and had his moments. He had gotten into the habit however of bringing any problems or insecurities that he had to either his master or Obi-wan. Any sensitive topics that he did not want to discuss with them he invariably discussed with Harry or Luna and he privately revelled in their non judgemental attentiveness and acceptance.

They simply did not view things the same way as a Jedi would and from that first time that he had come to them a strong friendship had formed that had only deepened over the years.

It could have also helped the young man that the Silver Knights, by their very nature, had shown Anakin that there existed a way to have feelings and still serve the Force without falling to the Dark Side though it was admittedly harder to do so.

"Uncle Harry?" Anakin asked with a particular look on his face that Harry knew meant that he was about to ask something both sensitive and important. "How can you...I mean how are you…"

"How can I be married to Luna and love Luna despite what the Jedi say about attachment and temptation?" Harry said finishing the stuttering young man's thoughts.

"Well...yes" He replied blushing lightly.

"That's very simple...and very complicated" Harry answered enjoying, as he always did, slipping back into his role of teaching whenever he could even though it was rare that he found the time these days. "The simple way to explain it is that I _always_ try and put Luna first in everything that I do...above everything else unless it would harm a great many for me to do so and even then only because she would not want me to in those situations".

"And the more complicated answer?" Anakin nudged.

"What are the first two lines of the _Knights Way_?" Harry challenged with a question of his own. Anakin, who by this point was very familiar with Harry's particular style of teaching, played along.

"All of life and all of the universe is balance. If you find balance in life then everything is enriched and this, more than anything, is the foundation of our duty" he parrotted. "Is it odd that I don't read it in order?"

"Good memory" said Harry smiling "and no. Knights carry that book throughout their lives and often refer to it, make notes in it and rarely read it in order. That's one of the reasons that we produced a book rather than any other medium. It's also very logical in its chapters but most people are rarely as logical".

"Still..getting back to the point " continued Harry " if the Jedi are at the one end of a seesaw and the Sith are at the other we, the Knights that is, are the pillar in the center".

"How does this relate to you and Aunt Luna?" Anakin asked with a minor look of confusion rippling on his face only to disappear behind his training.

"Finding that balance is a unique and often painful experience for each person as it can force you to understand yourself in ways some people really wouldn't like. It can also take _years_ to find it and the journey is, by its very nature, different for everyone. In my case both Luna and my companion Chime are _my_ balance personified...they help me maintain my grip on it every day but, then again, I was always more literal than most".

"What do you mean by that?" Anakin asked.

"I can and do love Luna because of the person that she is but also because we complete each other in a very intrinsic way. We shore each other against weakness that we might not be aware of and bolster each others strengths...and to be frank I couldn't do anything other than love her".

"That" said Anakin "is a very confusing answer and not at all in keeping with the teachings of the Jedi Order".

"It's good that I'm not claiming to be a Jedi then isn't it? Sadly the answer is confusing because life is and, I am very sorry to tell you, the older you get the more confusing it becomes" replied Harry.

"But" said Anakin slowly "how did either of you know who would be the one for you?"

"More dreams about Padmé?" Harry asked shrewdly even as the young man flushed and Harry neatly dodging _that_ question. "Come on it wasn't that hard to work out as you have come to me for dating advice...unless you want to break the news to me that you have become attracted to your Aunt Luna"

"No!" Anakin answered hotly as, though Harry's voice had been filled with mirth, he was still a teenager and would never admit that he had fantasies about the blonde (mostly in dreams) more than once though he had tried to stop it.

"Then" said Harry taking a seat next to him at the table "tell me all about it".

-LAFA-

"So" said Qui-gon while walking down the streets of New Atlantis with Harry "he still dreams of Padmé? Is it the beginning of a Force Bond do you think or merely an unhealthy obsession?"

Harry shrugged and, after a long moment's pause, he searched his feelings on the matter and found little there to help him beyond the fact that it wasn't anything bad.

"It has gone on too long to be a matter of a simple infatuation. Beyond that I do not know as the changes to the Force do affect us, even if it's only to a limited degree, as well as the Jedi or it may be that the Force simply does not want us to know. It could be a Force Bond or it could be something else but I feel that it isn't anything bad".

"It could be unhealthy for a Jedi" said Qui-gon grimacing.

"So called modern Jedi certainly" Harry agreed "but there were Jedi before the refinements".

"No Jedi of the old school exist anymore" interjected the elder Jedi.

"We are not called Je'daii and though technically we couldn't be called their actual successors we are their spiritual ones and we allow it. He could be one of us and, for that matter, so could you my friend".

"I admit" conceded Qui-gon "the offer is tempting. It seems like the Republic spends far too much time fighting itself and the Senate either argues or only caters to the needs of an influential few more and more these days".

The aging Jedi stopped walking, sighed, and then continued "But I have been a Jedi all of my life and I am not quite ready to give up on the idea that prosperity and peace will always win out….eventually".

"I'm not normally an optimist but I sincerely hope that you are right my friend... I really do".

As the men continued walking in silence each concerned with their own thoughts Harry couldn't help but ask "What are you going to do about Anakin?"

"For now? Nothing". Seeing Harry's raised eyebrow Qui-gon continued "If it becomes a problem I will outline his choices and the repercussions of them but...I will respect any decision he makes".

All Harry could do was nod at that still somewhat surprised at how kind and understanding the Jedi Master was especially in this day and age.

"What about Palpatine?" Harry questioned as his mind turned to darker matters. "Is he still showing his...interest...in Anakin?"

"Yes" Qui-gon answered gravely. "I have managed to limit their interactions by keeping Anakin away from the Core and, as of last year, I have shared my suspicion of the Sith operating throughout the Republic as well as the Senate. Since then he has become much more wary of the man".

"Beware Greeks that bear gifts" muttered Harry.

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing important. Is there anything else that the 'good' Senator is close with from the Jedi Order?" Harry questioned.

"A few Jedi Masters and around twenty Jedi Knights but, by all accounts it is no more than many other Senators. He is also one of the most unassuming and reportedly kind Senators that the Republic has. All we have to counter that is a suspicion that he _might_ be the Sith that we are looking for".

"And given the Orders distrust of anything that comes out of Commonwealth as well as the Senate's desire to question everything that they are encouraged to we wouldn't get very far sharing any proof we did have" added Harry.

When the Commonwealth had brought the _Scimitar_ back for analysis most of the data on board had been corrupted thanks to a self replicating virus that was timed to go off and, unfortunately, hidden very well.

The information that they had got was scant to say the least. They now knew that there was a Sith in the Senate and that this Darth Sidious was the current Dark Lord of the Sith but they only had their own feelings to prove that Sidious and Palpatine were one and the same.

"I can only hope that the Republic finds its own independent source of information on the Sith and their doings before it is too late to do anything about it".

Both men couldn't help but agree on that.

Given the state of the Republic and the rising dissatisfaction that many systems had with the elitist Senate Qui-gon enjoyed visiting the polar opposite of the Commonwealth immensely. That wasn't to say there weren't problems (no system was perfect) but in the main the people were happy, healthy and content.

Still he was first and foremost a Jedi of the Republic. He had sacrificed any children he might have had, he had bled for it, cried for it and fought for it for so long that as long as a peaceful effective solution was an option he would continue to be so.

He was Harry's friend and Anakin's teacher but that divide, among other things, meant that he was unaware of Dooku's visit and other things because he was still an agent of a foreign power.

That wasn't to say that both men weren't tempted in their own way. For Harry true friendship was rare and yet, over the course of their many visits, that was what they had but he was not just a man and he had to put his people first.

Qui-gon for his part was tempted more and more by the tranquil nature of his surroundings. That allure only increased with the problems that wormed and wriggled their way ever deeper into the Republic.

For the moment though both men's feeling were irrelevant. They had their duties and their courses were set.

-LAFA-

Less than three days later Qui-gon and Anakin were being recalled for a mission to protect Senator Amidala and Harry volunteered to take them.

He did this in part to spend more time with them, partly because his ship was so much faster than the ship that brought them in the first place and partly because he was overdue in revisiting the Chapterhouse of Coruscant anyway.

It wouldn't take that long though as, even though the Commonwealth itself was north of the Republic's borders it had two almost leg like tendrils of claimed space that branched down.

One was very thick and reached down to just shy of Korriban swirling almost lazily past it while terminating between New Bomalex and Columex. The other much thinner leg, with Spero itself being in the center, ended near Agmar and they weren't therefore that far away geographically from Coruscant at all.

Harry even managed to land them, with a smirk, on the main Temple landing pad. After he shook Qui-gon's hand and gave Anakin a warm hug he set off though he did tell them to contact him at the Chapterhouse if they needed anything.

When he got to the Chapterhouse he expected many things including all of the ceremonial hand shaking that he could take. What he did not expect was to hear news of an explosion that was related to an assassination attempt on the Senators life.

When he did hear of it all he could do was stare balefully at the slightly burning bracer on his wrist and wonder what exactly was going on.

-LAFA-

The three men that sat around the table were in theory the best that the Commonwealth had to offer in terms of skill as well as intellect. They were also _technically_ supposed to be working but they weren't doing that, in part at least, because they wanted to escape their schedules for a bit.

They also were rarely able to actually get together in person as they were often on other planets and busy with their respective work. That was why they were taking this precious time, regardless of everything else, to spend time together.

By playing poker.

It was not an honest game in the least. Then again, though very rare, they had done this before and it had even become a tradition of sorts. Per this tradition cheating was not only expected but also encouraged… sometimes to outrageous degrees.

It was less about the actual game and more about the closeness and the relaxed atmosphere that they and the game produced.

Around the circular table were Harry, Dobby and Neville. The use of temporary enchantments, runes, spells and the Force was prodigious as they relaxed with each other and got more and more drunk.

If someone was to look closely at the players it would have been very hard to tell the passage of time from the state of their bodies.

Dobby looked well... ageless which was now the norm for the adults of his kind. The truth of his new biology was still being discovered but the best estimates put their lifespan at around eight hundred years so it was doubtful that his actual age would show for quite some time.

Harry looked like a normal human somewhere between the age of eighteen and twenty five or a magical somewhere between seventeen and fifty. That was hardly surprising given the cloned bodies that both he and Luna employed on a semi regular basis.

Of them all only Neville showed a normal progression of age and even that was tempered by his magical nature.

Where aging was a gradual process that happened daily to non-magicals the power that swam inside the Magi retarded that to a large degree. This meant that not only would an average magical have a lifespan of around one hundred and fifty (and that was without taking into account varying power levels and the enhancement of the tattoos) they instead aged in increments though with telltale signs near them if you knew what you were looking for.

They tended to look the same, barring accidents or specific dark curses, from around the age of seventeen up to their early thirties. Then they would quickly age, depending on personal power, as their magic rapidly began to withdraw from a losing battle until they looked (again power levels dependant) somewhere between their late thirty to early sixties.

The final stage was another withdrawal when they were around eighty. They would rapidly age, over the period of a few days, until they looked as ancient as Dumbledore once did and they would remain that way until the day that they died.

With the added bonus of the tattoo the day of his death was thankfully further off for Neville as at one hundred and two he looked like a man in his thirties (albeit his late ones). That being said if you looked closely at him and compared him to the others you would see the small lines on his face and the few grey hairs that peppered both his hair and stubble.

All of which were minute signals that the last stage was beginning to approach for Harry's oldest friend.

"Dobby is here to supervise the new trainees" began Harry.

"Over a carefully applied runic glamour" grumbled the elf. Though the Commonwealth as a whole didn't want the Republic to know about their species yet and it had been designed for that and other similar situations Harry couldn't help but sympathise.

It felt like a small layer of oil over your skin that you couldn't remove and it was no wonder then that Dobby both grumbled and was visibly glad to not be wearing it now.

"Still it works" stated Harry as even Qui-gon and Anakin had never cottoned on to their use while getting back to his point. "So why did you follow me when I left?"

Even as Harry asked Neville his question he wandlessly and silently used a switching charm on the deck improving his hand and neatly worsening his friends odds. Almost as soon as he did that Dobby did something similar, though far less skillfully, using the Force.

Harry almost smiled at that.

"What? I'm not allowed a little holiday every now and then?" Neville questioned only to be given a bemused look by both Harry and Dobby. "Fine. I've never been here and I wanted to see the capital of the Republic so I moved a few things around and here I am. I has _nothing_ to do with the fact that I like beating my old friends at an honest game of poker".

Bless him, Harry thought, he actually managed to say that last bit with a straight face.

"Good enough for me" Dobby said smoothly.

"And me" added Harry. " Though I think that it might also have something to do with his newborn grandchild's almost constant crying. It _is_ your daughters first isn't it?"

Neville flushed and the thought of the adorable yet vocal Tiberius Williams and his two friends couldn't help but laugh at his discomfort remembering how Neville was just the same with his own children at that stage not to mention his other grandchildren.

All through the night the trio drank and shared old stories while enjoying each others company. The conversation moved organically from their Hogwarts days to the growing Elf population and Neville's many grandchildren (he had been married for more than twenty years and though he and his wife were an exception Magi still tended to marry young) and back again several times.

Many holophotos were shown, pranks played and laughs shared as the three friends forgot about the outside world even if it was only for a night.

-LAFA-

It was quite a surprise to Harry then when only the next day (and nursing the mother of all hangovers) he was contacted by a harried and concerned looking Qui-gon Jinn.

To make matters more concerning for Harry the man didn't send a message or appear by hologram but instead turned up outside the gates of the Chapterhouse itself. He also didn't turn up alone as he had both Anakin and Senator Padmé Amidala though they didn't join their discussion but rather waited in a guest room while the two men spoke.

"How are your border defences?" Qui-gon asked unusually blunt.

"In peacetime? Very impressive. In wartime? Nigh impregnable" Harry answered frankly while almost piercing the man with his gaze. "Why? What's going on my friend?"

"There has been an attempt on the Senators life and there are rumours of a planet of cloners".

"Kamino" said Harry neutrally.

"You know each other?" Qui-gon asked in surprise "How?"

"It is more accurate to say that I am aware of them _they_ are not aware of _me_. As to how I know of them? I am the head of the Silver Commonwealth and you are still a Jedi. I am sure that there are many things that each of us know and are unable to tell the other...but then we both always knew that was part of our friendship".

"The Council" said Qui-gon both wordlessly admitting his point and moving the conversation on. "In their wisdom" here he pointedly ignored Harry's snort of derision "has decided to send the Senator away until the threat has passed".

"I bet" Harry interrupted with a touch of sarcasm "she liked that idea".

"Quite" Qui-gon answered dryly. "The Council has suggested secreting her away on Naboo as they feel the loyalty of her home planet could only help the situation".

"Which, aside from being the first place that any half decent assassin would look, just so happens to also be Palpatine's home ground as well which would not be the most desired situation to say the least" Harry added distrustfully.

"Agreed" said Qui-gon equally as skeptical as Harry over the man's motives. "Which is why, if you will allow, they will be going to Spero and preferably with you leading them there".

"You are always welcome you know that" said Harry kindly before noticing a furtive look steal across his friend's face. "You are not coming with us are you?"

"Both I and my former Padawan, now Knight, Obi-wan Kenobi have been tasked with hunting down the connection between the two events by going to Kamino".

"So" said Harry "tell me the plan or at least as much of it as you can".

"There is no _time_ " was Qui-gon's quick and blunt reply.

"I'm sorry I must be mistaken" Harry said sarcastically " I could have sworn that my friend has just said that he is about to go off and do something monumentally stupid and couldn't explain. Surely you would not go almost completely alone especially as you know nothing about them...I _must_ be mistaken".

"Will you take them or not?" Qui-gon half demanded and half asked. Harry couldn't help but sigh at the man's hard tone of voice.

"Of course I will...we will even leave today if that's what you want" Harry relented.

"Thank you" Qui-gon said with a voice layered with happiness at Harry's positive reply but, before he could turn to leave, Harry stopped him.

"You're resolved in this?" Qui-gon nodded. "Then if you are going to be stupid" he continued as he moved to and then opened a hidden panel in one wall. "Do it right".

Harry pulled out and handed to Qui-gon the latest in special ops technology that the Commonwealth had to offer and it was, quite appropriately, called the survivors belt. "I _will_ need this back as its design is wholly and completely ours".

"What does it do?" Qui-gon's voice was understandably skeptical as he looked at the non descript belt with its slightly clunky buckle and many small pouches. Harry was grateful that the Magi component pouches were hidden behind runic Notice-Me-Nots.

"In these pouches are all the things that you would expect" stated Harry and pointing at each pouch in turn he continued. "Advanced Medical Kit, Survival cloth/tent, lockpicks both manual and electronic, emergency transmitter… no calls but it does have an encrypted distress signal, rations and 'a bag of spare parts' ".

"I'm guessing that's not what it actually is" said Qui-gon blandly.

"Actually it is though it is also hiding two non descript metal pieces that, along with a trigger hidden in your clunky belt buckle, make a rudimentary but very effective hold out blaster" Harry smirked.

"Those are heavily frowned upon in the Republic" remarked Qui-gon.

"Technically we are not in the Republic at the moment" Harry corrected his friend. "That however is not the best part. Do you see the thick leather band that seems to form part of the belt at the very top? Break it at the hips on both sides and you will find two halves of a shoto saber ready to be clicked together into one solid piece".

"What about the focusing crystal? I can't sense it".

"Do you see the engraving of the flaring phoenix to the right of the belt buckle?" Even as Qui-gon nodded he continued "It's shielded...peel back the the left wing. Be careful of using it as you won't be able to put either the crystal or the casing back when you pull them out".

A magi could….as could Knights of the Silver that were able to access the rest of the pouches because there was a runestone for that exact purpose but Harry was not free to share that with Qui-gon.

"How" asked Qui-Gon in almost wonder "does the belt manage to be capable of all of this?"

"Ask me not questions and I will tell you no lies" Harry replied gently. He was thankful that, despite everything, their friendship had managed to grow to the point that his simple comment was easily accepted.

They both had secrets but they managed to persevere anyway.

Then again to assume that with their respective positions they could have any sort of friendship without secrets would be both childish and stupid.

-LAFA-

Geonosis

Qui-gon might have cursed the trail that had led them here but they had managed to get a message out.

That single fact provided the comfort needed for both Obi-wan Kenobi and Qui-gon Jinn through their mutual captivity especially as they really did not enjoy either being imprisoned or suspended (as Qui-gon was currently) in an energy field.

Thankfully for him the droids that had been created on Geonosis (and apparently under his former master's, now Count, Dooku's control) had completely ignored his new belt when they were disarming him.

That was the reason that the message had been able to be sent. Before they managed to capture the two Jedi not only had Obi-wan managed to inform the Council that they were under attack but, as added insurance given the sheer number of the enemy, Qui-gon had sent a message as well...sort of.

As they were under fire it had been clear to both men that despite their training they would soon be overwhelmed by the mass of the enemies forces. He had quickly reached into the pouch of his belt, withdrew the emergency transmitter, dropped it to the floor while activating it with his thumb.

Thankfully it was not only supposed to be easy to use but small as well. The innocuous little device landed at his feet changing its outer shell colour to match the orange soil on the ground almost instantly.

There it remained soon to begin trying to broadcast its signal.

The most ingenious thing about its design was that it did not try and send the signal in a conventional way as not only would it be far too small (and the signal therefore far too weak) to be effective it would also be detected in very short order.

So it instead consisted of parts that, though complex to make, had two very simple functions.

The first was a detection array that scanned for any signal bound off planet that was within it's impressive range and only when it managed to find one was the second component of the transmitter activated.

The latter sent a compressed and encrypted signal that was designed to latch on to the other outgoing transmission and only truly take effect when the foreign signal reached its destination and the Commonwealth code began unpacking itself.

As soon as it was done doing that it sent itself to the nearest intergalactic relay (if it wasn't already in one) and from then on acted like any other message as it zipped its way to the nearest Commonwealth body be it a Chapterhouse or even Spero itself.

It was also very difficult for any but the operators to understand not only because it was still encrypted but also because it only sent a number telling the receivers which transmitter had sent it, the date, the time of activation and spatial coordinates.

That was why, unbeknownst to anyone on Geonosis, the Jedi weren't the only ones sending relief teams for the captured Jedi. They even had the perfect excuse for acting as, if pressed for a reason later, Harry could and would say that they went to recover proprietary technology that had been loaned to Master Jinn.

In that way they neatly sidestepped the issues that could have arisen from a veritable warship or two...at least... crossing into Republic (claimed at least) space albeit one in seemingly open revolt.

That of course was all in the future and unknown to Harry at the time but, for right now, Qui-gon had bigger problems than explaining why he had access to sensitive Commonwealth technology and the name of that problem was his former master Count Dooku.

From his quick scan of the older man's face he found himself glad that Obi-wan was not here with him but instead back in his cell as whatever Dooku had to say he doubted that it would be good.

"How are you my old student?" Dooku's voice was the epitome of culture and breeding. It also somehow managed to convey, quite paradoxically, both the stereotypical nobles indifference and his sadness at Qui-gon's confinement.

"Oddly despite being imprisoned I'd say I'm better than you my old Master" Qui-gon answered wryly.

"You spoke many times" said Dooku while ignoring the insinuation "of the need to serve the Force rather than the whims of the Senate….I just took longer than you to realise the truth of it".

"I did often ignore the Council when their requests were clearly politically motivated or if I felt that they were not doing enough and that was why I spent so much time in the Outer Rim" Qui-gon easily admitted.

"For which I once derided you" Dooku replied even as his voice artfully filled with remorse. "What made you change from the firebrand you once were? Padawan Skywalker or the Commonwealth?"

"Anakin" stated Qui-gon coldly "needed structure outside of the corruption of the Core...an activist railing against it would have done him no good at all".

"Quite. I do find myself confused as to why you have continued to help the Council at all especially as there is another option. I _have_ come to your way of thinking after all and you were my padawan once before".

"You want me to believe that it was _my_ ideological differences with the Council that inspired your own change of heart?" Qui-gon's voice was infused with a healthy dose of suspicion and disbelief.

"Why I left is hardly important" Dooku said dismissively and, to Qui-gon's mind, far too quickly. "What is important is the fact that we both believe the Republic is stagnating thanks to the Senate and that they are also by extension doing the same to the Jedi".

"So" asked Qui-gon "why am I here rather than in my cell?"

"I have spent some time trying to negotiate your release" Dooku's voice was once again soft and sympathetic using the persuasion that only a Force user could place in it. "They have no love for the Jedi however and I might have more luck if you join me".

"What exactly would that entail?"

"Think about it for a moment. Yes you wouldn't be a Jedi anymore but, in the fullness of time, we could create our own order dedicated to helping relieve suffering throughout the Galaxy without petty bureaucratic oversight. Think of a system without that short sighted bigotry...think of what that could mean".

With his enhanced voice Dooku tried to convince Qui-gon and convert him to this new cause. In his mind's eye Qui-gon could almost see the seductive notes of the man's speech heading towards him and tempting him like a great red wave.

He was unaware that he same technique had been tried (and had failed) on Obi-wan Kenobi as well as the fact that Dooku hoped their former relationship, such as it was, would lead to a different outcome.

Qui-gon began to see images form in his mind as the Count continued speaking though his words were lost to the background due to the encompassing nature of what he evoked.

The images of that possible future tantalised him. He saw whole planets, ones that he knew the Republic neglected, rebuilt with buildings even more beautiful than the finest on Coruscant. Hallowed places that teemed with laughing Force users doing good without restraint and happy families embracing them.

More than that he saw the building of art houses, opera houses, museums, hospitals and libraries throughout all of the known Republic worlds not just the Core. Images of a governing body that was strong and unafraid to burn out corruption down to its very root flashed across his vision.

"Change" Dooku's voice came to him as if from across a great void "will be painful but the change _is_ necessary".

Qui-gon almost spoke the words as the images were that enticing to him. He almost gave up his life's work with one single sentence as, though he and Dooku had never been exactly close, they had spent years working together and the older man was nothing if not a profound observer of people.

This meant each image and their emotional weight were almost surgically designed to batter away at his beliefs and leave him vulnerable to persuasion. He even began to form the words until his senses managed to catch something in that connection as it went both ways.

The Dark Side.

And like that the seductive illusion of a glorious future was shattered like rock hitting thin glass.

Beneath the honeyed cadence of the man's voice and deeper than almost any Jedi would be able to sense was the feeling of rotten slime coupled with the sensation of biting into freshly baked bread that was filled with maggots.

He knew that there could be no glorious future if that side of the Force was allowed free reign. Unlike in the Commonwealth there was no balance in the 'taste' (for lack of a better word) of it and it was rather more like a dark muted fire that charred everything it touched.

There would only be the madness of giving in to baser instincts and always, thought Qui-gon, just the rule of strength, an ever growing lust for power and rivers of blood that would never cease.

"No" he managed to answer thickly. "My answer is no".

"Are you sure?" Dooku asked. "What if I told you that the Senate was controlled by the Sith and not just that but that a powerful Sith Lord was even a member of the body would that change your mind?".

Qui-gon's eyebrows rose. Though not direct proof that either the Council or the Senate would accept what he was saying did now at least have the ring of truth to it to both his hearing and his senses.

At his stony silence Dooku continued "Still not willing to help?" The man sighed seemingly full of regret. "Then I will see you at your execution"

That at least explains why he was ready to be so open with me, thought Qui-gon, as the dead tell no tales.

-LAFA-

It is really quite boring, concluded Qui-gon, being tied up all the time. Though at least I'm not tied up in a gladiatorial arena with a beast riding Geonosian heading straight for me….Oh no wait…. That's _exactly_ what's going on.

The massive horned beast took a chunk out of the pillar he was chained to as it hit but, if he hadn't moved, then the baying crowd would have seen it skewer him easily and that of course was what they were here to see.

Sparing glance for his former padawan he saw Obi-Wan Kenobi already free and fighting a multi legged monster that he couldn't quite remember the name of though he did remember that it was a native of Felucia.

When the beast attacked again he managed to angle his arms so that the attack itself broke his chains and in one smooth manoeuvre (that he wouldn't have been able to do if he hadn't taken Harry's warnings to heart about improving his lightsaber skills) whipped the loose chains around in the air and deftly used their solid nature to impact the creatures skull.

Just because he didn't enjoy fighting it didn't mean that he wasn't more than capable of saving his own life especially now. The form of lightsaber combat that he had once used would have been severely unhelpful in this regard and especially in this situation but when he had chosen to train Anakin he had begun to learn Form III and though not particularly suited to attacking it served its purpose here.

There were after all still beasts to kill and his was barely stunned.

Even as he jumped over the beast one of his hands dived into the pouch of his belt and his other hand went to his buckle.

He swiftly snapped the small blaster into place and gently landed on the beast's back almost like a dandelion seed killing the rider as he went. Soon enough he fired several times into the beast's skull managing to put down the beast quite effectively.

He rolled off of the dying animal even as it fell with the sand and stone environment still echoing with the sound of his shots in the arena.

His remaining chains were next even as they scorched and blistered his skin (which were overcome with the power and heat of condensed blaster shot) while the cat calling crowd screamed their ultimate displeasure at this development.

He looked towards Obi Wan and saw that the young man had taken care of his own beast and now had some sort of spear in his hand.

"Obi-wan" he called "catch!"

The small blaster went flying through the air and his former padawan nodded gratefully at him even as Qui-gon ripped at the lining of his belt quickly constructed the emergency lightsaber that even had a comfortingly green light when it was activated.

The fight however was not over yet as there were still three more beast handlers (with their own mounts) and what looked like a mutated tiger heading towards them. Thankfully the tiger was taken care of by Obi Wan before the temperamental beast could come close as he managed to launch the spear (guided by the Force no doubt) right through the soft membrane of the creatures eye killing it swiftly.

Then the shit _really_ hit the fan as, before they could deal with the remaining beasts and their riders, droids began to stream into the arena. Droidikas rolled in supported by both B-1 and B-2 battle droids with at least twenty of the first and thirty each of the rest.

Against that the two Jedi had no defense and, just when all seemed lost, Jedi Master Windu appeared in the box above them placing his activated lightsaber to Dooku's throat. Added to that a very large Jedi strike force, that had concealed itself in the stands, revealed itself and jumped down to the aid of there two kidnapped brothers.

They even managed to pass Obi-wan his own lightsaber as they did so and pass his proper full length one to Qui-gon as they did so though how they had got them he had no idea.

The older Jedi was very thankful of that as, as much as the emergency one had served him well, he was happy to stow the Commonwealth creation and reunite with his own lightsaber that he had created many, many years ago.

That was when the violence resumed as, after a moment of talking and posturing, Windu was forced down to the arena with them by a very zealous Jango Fett.

As the battle began in earnest with even the numberless horde of Geonosians getting involved in the fight on their soil (most directly from the same stands as the Jedi had hidden on) the weight of numbers alone began to crush an ever decreasing number of Jedi.

They all realised two things at that point. The first was that the average Jedi here could take at least three or four enemies down before succumbing to injury or death and the second was that despite that it simply didn't matter as there were too many enemies coming for them.

The Jedi were very unlikely to survive.

-LAFA-

Harry was walking briskly to the nearest drop ship and getting ready for a fight that could change the course of galactic history.

Unlike both the Mandalorians and the Republic the Commonwealth didn't have one preferred method of dropping troops on the ground but, in their opinion, had perfected both.

The Mandalorians preferred drop pods that were armed to the teeth so that, as they fell, they could fire at and destroy the enemy as well as land in their midst. To be fair it was also a cultural thing for them as, although they did use drop ships and troop transports, their version of drop pods both caused extra damage when they landed and told the enemy in no uncertain terms that they weren't going to retreat as retreat simply was not an option.

The Republics preferred drop ships and troop transports were essentially mini tanks that could fly and deposit small number of troops to clear a beachhead and then sending more troops by using a variety of different transport options and this tactic had worked well for them for centuries.

Though with the Republic banning the more interesting research and either classifying or outright destroying some of their more ingenious technological advances beginning (albeit slowly) thousands years before the Mandalorian Wars that fact was not as impressive as they would like to believe.

Simply put all technological societies inside the Republic had been hamstrung and then forcibly regressed slowly but surely simply because they were part of it (helped along no doubt by both the Jedi and the Sith at different times and for different reasons) and it was a decline supposedly based on the somewhat naive idea that if a society did not know how to make a thing then they could not use it for ill.

Not only was this a ridiculous premise, in Harry's opinion, but it also completely discounted the fact that remnants of previous technology existed and could still be put to use by those that were determined to do so.

When it came to ships the Commonwealth was far superior and, as they restricted dangerous knowledge rather than its use, were somewhere around of the Republic of Revan's day (if not a few hundred years further back) with the unpredictable nature of magic thrown in for good measure.

Although originally based on Republic designs of that time the Commonwealth drop ships had better arms, armour (thanks in no small part to N.A.S.) and could fit up to one hundred and fifty combatants.

Unlike the Mandalorian drop pods the Commonwealth had very little in the way of weapons and instead focused on armour and, thanks to space enlargement charms, capacity (they could each carry fifty) though they did have another interesting feature that would see use in the battle to come.

Still as Harry boarded his gunship he was worried and, as it would later turn out, he had every right to be even with the presence of both Dobby and Neville beside him.

-LAFA-

Shit, Harry thought, it's a massacre down there.

Harry was watching the fight in the arena and the twenty five Jedi that Windu had brought with him were battling against almost incalculable odds.

Still, Harry conceded, it's not like I have any room to judge as my strategies are _hardly_ those of a military genius. Most of my brilliant ideas have come from watching the History Channel from a crack in my cupboard when I was younger or through experience and the main thing that I have realised is that I am much better off leading troops rather than commanding them.

That did not mean he would ever resort to the tactics that the Jedi were using now if he had any other choice.

Even as his gunship shot and destroyed an enemy anti-aircraft gun and simultaneously devastated more of the infantry that was swarming towards the pit with twin lasers that turned the droid enemy into so much scrap metal (not to mention burning the Geonosians right out of the air) he saw that they made mistakes.

The Jedi was supposed to be here on a rescue mission and yet, unlike the Knights of the Silver, fought with only the barest amount of cohesion and basically ended up having individual duels in the arena while being forced back slowly into a rough circle.

"Send in the first drop pods" Harry commanded as soon as there appeared to be a lull in the fighting. It seemed that Dooku was about to make another speech and it would be _such_ a shame in Harry's mind if he were to ruin it.

Oh well, thought Harry, life is full of such disappointments.

With the sound of displaced air and groaning metal the drop suits came screeching out of the atmosphere sent, of course, by one of the eight _Centurion_ class Battlecruisers in orbit that were being commanded by Luna which were in turn stopping any and all major reinforcements for Dooku's side.

The seven pods landed in a rough circle around the injured Jedi and out poured many droids. The first HP droids that came out not only did so backwards towards the Jedi but had thick, large and heavy duty shields on one arm helping form a ring of protection around their charges.

Then they moved into position and the triangular shields that they carried were hammered into the ground with a power most humans could never match. They formed a protective ring around the injured Jedi and not only allowed them a better chance to dispatch the enemy that were currently engaging them but also recover the injured better.

The fight was still not over though as the natives could still fly and engage them at will by going over or above the 'wall'.

It was at this point that one of the surprises of the drop pods came into play as a small oblong opening appeared at head height facing towards the enemy turning them into defecto armoured gun nests that fired rapidly into the waiting mass of enemies.

Clearly this upset Dooku because, before Harry's ship could even land, the aristocratic Count was already leaving flanked by two B-2 droids as personal guards and so, as Harry nodded to both Dobby and Neville, all three of them jumped on the two detachable Potter Triumph speeder bikes that were at the back of the ship.

With almost identical wild grins on their faces the three of them were half released and half fell out of the ship as their speeder bikes roared to life heading for Dooku's last known position.

And it was not a moment too soon it's seeing as their quarry had a similar idea and was on his own speed of bike heading away from the battle.

Far below Qui-gon saw this and called to the newly arrived Anakin (courtesy of a drop ship that was seconds behind Harry's) as well as Obi-Wan.

"Go" he called while reflecting a shot back at an enemy droid even as more friendly ones poured in to help him. " help Harry catch Dooku...I'll be right behind you".

With that the two younger Jedi turned around and ran back towards the very dropship that had just set one of them down on the planet and headed after both Harry and Count Dooku.

-LAFA-

Harry cursed as he entered the small hidden hangar that held Dooku's escape ship.

The problem, he admitted to himself, with following a speeder bike in hostile territory was that you were on a speeder bike _in hostile territory_.

The three of them had already had to divert twice from the following Dooku and losing precious time as they did so even with their much more nimble bike models due to being attacked by enemy light gun ships.

Though the designs of their bikes were good they stood no chance of outright destroying their enemy given the difference in armament between the two though they did manage to either escape or lightly damage the ships that was sent out to stop them.

As he, Neville and Dobby (the two of them had shared a single bike) hopped off their vehicles that they had landed next to the escape ship to stop Dooku from using it they almost literally ran into a furious lightsaber battle.

Obi-Wan Kenobi was down.

Even from this distance Harry could see a large lightsaber wound stretching from the man's hip diagonally across the body and ending just below his collarbone. Although it was hopefully not life threatening the young Jedi was at best semi conscious of the world around him and was slumped against the wall now only a spectator to the fight that was raging on.

Anakin has improved, Harry thought, blending elements from his own masters Form III and my own preferred Form V but Dooku was and is known as the absolute master of Form II….at least among the Jedi and Sith.

Almost as if the Force could hear his thoughts Anakin made a minor error in positioning his feet even as Harry and Dobby moved in with lightsabers flaring. Neville was not far behind them with a heavily enchanted goblin short sword in one hand and his wand in the other.

It was a shame that neither magic user could utilise spells in this situation but the fact of the matter was that, with Anakin fighting with both his and Obi-Wan's blades (and Dooku pressing his obvious advantage in skill and experience) any spell they cast would be just as likely to hit Anakin as it would Dooku.

Before they could begin to overwhelm the man with sheer numbers Dooku used the minor mistake that Anakin had made to knock both his feet and blades out of position and, as Harry had done to Yoda years before but with far more viciousness, lifted the young student into the air and then promptly threw him into the wall and he slumped, dazed at the very least, next to Obi-Wan Kenobi.

His lightsabers clattered to the floor where he had been fighting Dooku even as the Count and former Jedi turned to face this new threat with a confident arrogance threaded throughout his body language.

Clearly he thought that he was going to be dealing with two half trained adepts and someone without abilities, granted well covered in armour, but not a true threat to his skills.

Which was proven wrong almost instantly when he launched his blade at Neville and had it blocked with almost lightning speed. Not quite the speed of a Jedi Master of course but (thanks to the runes both on the man's armour and blade) close enough to it to be a problem.

Before he could even truly marvel at that he had two other lightsaber blades coming straight for him and had to roll backwards as Dobby's blade could have taken him in the chest and Harry would have taken his head at roughly the same moment that he had moved.

Dooku had hoped that his desperate manoeuvre would have bought him some breathing room but, with a scream of warning from the Force, he had to spin away yet again as the strange non-human (Dobby had let his glamour lapse not wanting the minor distraction and discomfort it caused to affect him at this critical time) had somehow appeared behind him with a soft pop and attacked again.

He realised quickly that no matter how talented he was compared to his opponents Dooku's skills and victory were in doubt with this unknown teleporting ability of the non-human.

So, before they could engage him fully, he decided to use the two out of commission Jedi to his advantage and quickly ripped out a portion of the wall by focusing on his deep and abiding anger and frustration at being stopped from escaping by the weak Jedi and these odd half breeds.

Dooku then threw that very large portion of the wall (at high enough speeds to be more than lethal) towards both Anakin and Obi-Wan.

Without a thought the two weaker duelists, Neville and Dobby, broke away to stop the attack and that they did so, so smoothly without giving Dooku the chance of a surprise attack while they were turning to help the down Jedi spoke of their superb training.

To Dooku's shock they seemed unconcerned by the large chunk of wall heading towards the two prone men as they began to deal with the problem. The strange creature was, much to Dooku's satisfaction, straining to hold the wall back from crushing the Jedi.

What his companion was doing startled Dooku to his very core though and thanks to that he almost lost his head to a blow from the Silver Prince that he barely avoided. His shock was understandable however as the other man was was waving a stick and muttering at the slab.

And that was somehow slowly turning it to dust right before all of their eyes.

Not that Dooku had a lot of time to try and figure out how such a thing was possible as, to the Sith's mounting horror, he began to realise just how badly he had miscalculated.

The Silver Prince was, quite surprisingly, far better with a blade than he was and it was all that he could do to stay alive even through the first few exchanges.

The sudden visceral fear of his own death combined with his wounded pride over being out classed as a blademaster caused him to reach deeper into the Dark Side of the Force than he had ever been able to do before.

Using this stronger connection he launched a blistering attack of precise almost surgical thrusts and swipes that were designed to kill this _Silver Prince_ quickly so that he could escape long before the other two finished their task and rejoined the duel.

Sadly (at least to Dooku's point of view) it was all for naught as his fury inspired attacks were met with a solid and calm wall of defence that was as frustrating as it was impenetrable.

To make matters more galling for the aged Sith it appeared that the leader of the Commonwealth was simply humouring him and even smirked while beating back Dooku's furious assault.

Then Harry attacked again with such speed that Dooku could barely keep up with the ebb and flow of their battle. That however was suddenly not his biggest concern as though he (barely) managed to use the Force to match Harry's speed he simply could not match the man's strength.

Put simply Harry's youthful body far outclassed his older one and the constant use of the Force was already taxing his reserves when he had been exchanging blows with the man for less than a minute.

Dooku needed to leave like he had never needed anything in his life and he felt a tide of desperation and weariness rise up in the back of his throat as he frantically searched for a way to do that.

With a bitter taste in Dooku's mouth he realised that he could not use force of arms to escape and so, far more wary now, he stepped back trying to shift the battle to one of the Force more than blades and hoping against hope that he would have better luck overcoming his enemy there.

-LAFA-

Harry could feel the waves of dark intent radiating from his foe and was unsurprised then when a large stream of Force Lightning leapt out at him hungrily and he simply blocked it with his saber contemptuously.

Dooku, it appeared, was not one to give up easily as small pieces of the surrounding environment (basically anything that he could get his mental hands on) followed and Harry either gracefully sidestepped them or, with a raised hand, stopped their movement and returned them to Dooku with twice the deadly momentum so that they almost screeched in the air as they flew.

Dooku's fear was so strong that every person in the room, bar Neville, could feel it leaking from the man and into the Force.

The turning point, that moment when fear turned into a feeling of utter helplessness, when it came was rather anticlimactic to say the least.

A pebble or some other small piece of debris, that in his haste to move of the way of deadly flying objects he missed, caused the normally assured and reserved Dooku to stumble. When he did the man felt a large piece of the floor somehow spike up and pierce clean through his leg just above his knee.

Dooku collapsed with a moan, his lightsaber rolling just out of the man's reach, and he looked at the impassive face of the leader of the Commonwealth with anger, hatred, fear and most of all _confusion_ in his features.

"Why?" The man gasped. "You care for neither the Republic or the Jedi".

"True. But then I suppose you mean why am I here? The official reason is to recover my lost technology and the proprietary systems that it contains. Unofficially? You may be right that I care little for the Jedi as a whole or what the Republic has become _but_ I care less for your kind and much more for my friends".

"Well" responded Dooku with pure hatred making his voice rough and harsh even as his eyes took on a vicious gleam. "Let's see how much your caring does for them!"

Harry felt his gut drop at those shouted words.

-LAFA-

Qui-gon looked around the battlefield knowing that, here at least, they had won and what that meant for the greater galaxy could wait for another day.

When the Commonwealth had arrived it had been all but certain that not just the arena but the entirety of Geonosis would fall and it wasn't just the number or troops or ships that reinforced that fact but how effective they were that hammered that idea home.

The HP's had not only protected the wounded Jedi and fought with them but had also distributed baffling medicines that even he, having visited the Commonwealth regularly, had no idea about.

The injures of anyone that was grievously injured seemed to bubble under the strange liquids and ointments. Where they didn't outright heal they turned the wounds manageable and shallow before the very eyes of their startled comrades.

The very worst were almost miraculously stabilized and, with proper treatment later, would survive.

It helped that Harry's companion Chime, whom Qui-gon did know, transported the most critical away though how and to where (whether it was a command post or even the ships above) he couldn't tell.

Some of the droids that landed had rocket mod packs and had used them to great effect. The rockets destroyed turrets and masses of enemy troops even as E.M.P. grenades flew like blue stars causing devastation where they landed.

Others used their shields and sharp blades to enter the fray directly as well as those that used more traditional fire. Unlike the C.I.S. droids the Commonwealth's not only had better programing and armour but were also partially hardened against E.M.P's.

In short the ones fighting on the side of the Jedi were prepared for what they would face and it was thanks to this, more than anything else, that only a few Jedi had died during the battle especially considering the odds that the Jedi had faced at first.

Which made the arrival of the Grand Army of the Republic both redundant and somewhat anticlimactic as well as ethically disturbing to Qui-gon.

All of this war and bloodshed from his former master? All of this Conflict? And now, he thought, the Republic resorts to disposable lives by cloning a fully thinking being whose only purpose was to fight and die without reprieve or remorse?

What had the society he served become?

Before he could think on it more however the Light Side of Force, so weak both because of this chaotic stronghold and the veil suffocating it, whispered a warning that may have been meant as a shout.

Looking at Yoda he could see the aged Jedi Master had felt it too and, as one, they both moved to the nearest ship and headed towards where the others had so recently gone.

-LAFA-

Harry's eyes widened in fear as his brain processed Dooku's threat and the next few moments seemed to happen in slow motion for him.

His body half turned, almost against its own will, towards his friends, even as he dimly heard the sounds of someone else approaching. Dooku's lightsaber rattled as it rose into the air and turned itself back on.

Neville had his back to Harry, still turning the jagged block back into sand, and with no Force abilities he had no warning as the blade spun into the air and separated his head from his shoulders.

Dobby however did get a warning and a nanosecond in which he could decide what to do.

He could try and deflect the blade but, even if he succeeded, Dooku could use that change of trajectory to either kill the prone Jedi or attack Harry and after everything that Harry had done for him and his people that simply wasn't an option.

Especially when you took into account that, though Harry might survive, in all likelihood everyone else would die.

Dobby met Harry's eyes calmly and, knowing that he only had time for one thing, the former House Elf threw the remaining parts of the slab across the room and away from the Jedi with the last of his Force strength.

Then the ruby red blade completed its almost lazy arc in the air and pierced his heart. Dobby died without regret as he was saving not only relative innocents but his friend as well.

Time snapped back into focus for Harry and gathering his rage he cast a spell.

In the years that the Commonwealth had Veela as residents they had discovered a lot about their fire. It was very controllable but at the cost of being nearly as weak as a normal flame (though intent based) and on the other end of the spectrum was Fiendfyre dark, powerful and devastating but almost completely uncontrollable.

The Commonwealth had made some progress in finding a middle ground between the two and it was this that Harry wordlessly cast now.

A ball of fire, tinged with dark magic, just longer than two fists put together appeared above his free hand and in his anger and grief he gestured like an irate conductor causing it to speed towards Dooku.

It latched onto the left side of the man's face and, powered by deep loss that was just beginning to be felt, it began to eat at what it found. Dooku of course began to scream as the utter agony of flesh and soon enough bone being stripped away began to enter his brain.

Harry was going to burn the man until he was nothing but ash. His two oldest and dearest friends were dead and the person that did it was going to pay.

Images of Dobby and Neville as well as the many times that they had shared fast across his mind's eye as the fire hungrily moved further down into the man's face. He thought of all the times that they had shared, of having to tell Neville's grandchildren what happened to him, of never laughing with each other again and being forced to bury them.

He found that he honestly had no regrets for what he was about to do.

Before Dooku could die in screaming pain however Harry was thrown bodily against the wall but not by Dooku himself as he was still writhing in agony sock on the floor. Without Harry's intent to power it, like Veela Fire, the flames began to putter out.

Instead the person who had thrown him into the wall and held him there was none other than Grandmaster Yoda and behind him, looking pained at the site of the dead bodies of Neville and Dobby, was Qui-gon Jinn.

"Let me go" growled Harry while staring at Yoda with utter contempt.

"Jedi prisoner, he is" stated Yoda calmly.

"He _murdered_ two high ranking members of the Commonwealth in front of another one. He is _my_ prisoner not yours".

"Jedi kill their prisoners, do not" answered Yoda with more than a hint of judgement. If Yoda wanted judgement however Harry was more than willing to give it as Yoda's almost casual disregard for the two dead men literally at their feet not only provided enough motivation for Harry but would be the straw that broke the camel's back for the intrinsically peaceful Qui-gon. When Harry spoke it was with a voice both sharp and resolute.

"No. Instead you try and rehabilitate them or turn them to your way of thinking though it seems to have escaped your notice that this Darksider was in fact a Jedi Master himself once upon a time and I'd think that would make him immune to your tricks. Sadly for you you will not get that chance as he is _not_ your prisoner and I am _not_ giving him up to you. Now...Let. Me. Go".

"No" said Yoda and Harry sighed before focusing his skill and power to forcefully break the bonds that held him in place. When he did he even managed to land gently blocking Yoda's way.

Unfortunately in that moment, when all others were distracted, Dooku managed to make his escape by fleeing, his face still smoldering, to his ship and though they tried to stop him he was gone before they were able to do anything meaningful towards their attempt.

To make matters worse the ship was small and given all of the debris from battle it would be easily missed by Luna's scanners in orbit. It was at that point that a furious Harry turned to Yoda and seriously considered stabbing him for a long moment.

"You do realise" said Harry quietly "that by Commonwealth Law a person who aids and abets a murderer is as guilty as that murderer. It is my duty as the highest ranking representative near to the crime to inform you that you are now wanted by the Silver Commonwealth and, if found in its borders, _will_ be arrested and convicted for that crime. Furthermore though we will keep to our agreements our borders are now firmly closed to any Republic citizen except the necessary diplomats for the continuation of said agreements. If your Republic truly needs our resources they can pick them up in the dead space between our borders...do with _that_ what you will".

"You do now, what will, hmmm?" Yoda asked seeming both unconcerned as well as trying to project the idea that he had a right to know. Harry could only snort at his demanding tone while ruthlessly using Occlumency to suppress his feelings as much as he could as the urge to gut the green rat was back with alarming force and now was not the time for that.

"To protect my people and catch at least _one_ murder" stated Harry looking pointedly at Yoda and the Jedi simply stared back with disappointment in his eyes.

With that Harry then proceeded to ignore Yoda and levitated the two bodies of his friends with a simple twitch of his finger and the only thing that stopped Qui-gon from following him right then was his concern for Anakin.

He would follow within a few days however and, after supplementary training, eventually replace Dobby as the new Grandmaster of the Knights of the Silver.

Still now the battle was done much of the shroud had fallen away and the Force, bar foresight, was fully available once again. The reasons for this were unknown but it was likely that it simply became too strenuous to maintain after all of this time, Dooku was powering a large part of it or it simply could be that now the war had begun it was no longer as needed.

The cost for Harry and the Commonwealth though had already been too high.


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34: War!

 _A/N: I have been writing the last chapter for a while now but had to split it in two as it got too large_. I w _ill say that this is NOT it and that there will now be a total of 37 chapters to this story...the last chapter I will get back to writing after I've copied this one up._

19 BBY

3634 ATC

Coruscant

Palpatine stalked around his apartment with his normally calmly impassive face twisted with rage and hatred as he moved like a caged animal. He even began to quietly snarl as he prowled around with the languid grace of a predator amongst prey.

"What a complete and utter waste of blood and organs my apprentice has been!" He raged as the Dark Side trembled inside him. It needed to destroy, to lash out and his fingers itched to slowly crush someone's throat as he watched the light bleed from their eyes. "He has put the entire plan at risk for his wounded pride".

The Republic, in its infinite _wisdom_ , thought that the Confederacy was a collection of systems that were merely suffering under a 'misguided' belief that their worlds would do better without Republic control and oversight.

They thought the fact that these systems were, in the main, on the edges of Republic space a symptom of this rather than part of a design and the fact that these worlds were further roughly fragmented into four quadrants supported this idea (they were almost side by side in the north as there were two pockets of rebellion and only one more condensed pocket in the south).

They further believed that the droid factories were making a concerted effort for independence and they, along with most of the C.I.S. leadership believed that the factories were working at 100%.

They couldn't have been more wrong of course. Not only were the factories barely touching 40% but Sidious and his former Master had arranged this faction of the war very carefully and with a surgeon's precision.

Every single last detail was planned and the resulting picture was, to Sidious, almost as much art as revenge.

The contested areas were so far out so that the Republic lines would be stretched thin and their ability to respond in a timely fashion would be limited at best. The member worlds were separated into three so that, while they did provide a significant threat to the Republic itself and what it stood for, they were never likely to actually _win_.

It had taken the entire Banite Sith Order centuries of slow and careful manipulation to reach this point. They had sown the seeds of distrust and xenophobia among carefully targeted worlds (as well as simultaneously encouraging the corruption in the Senate up to obscene levels to agitate the masses even further) and now, with the Clone Wars so close to achieving their purpose, it was all coming undone.

All because of Dooku's petulant and childish need to kill members of both the Commonwealth and the Royal Council. He even did it in front of unassailable witnesses rather than bide his time and strike when it couldn't be proven that he had done it.

There was no great period of mourning or even the diplomatic demands and thinly veiled insults that even he had expected.

Instead, they attacked in numbers that neither Security Service knew that they had and the Northern Front had shuddered under the weight of their fury suffering defeat after defeat.

Hundreds of thousands of men and women that were filled with a patriotic rage had joined the war effort, bright-eyed and eager for their enemies blood, not to mention the sea of droids had punched into the C.I.S's lines like they were made of wet tissue paper.

And every droid, every man, every woman and everything in between wanted only one thing and that was Dooku's head on a pike. The Commonwealth had even put a bounty out on the man's location and it was not even to attack him (they wanted that pleasure for themselves) but simply to know where he was at all times.

It made secret meetings with him extremely difficult and tedious to arrange.

Worse the reports of men and women who were not Knights of the Silver but that could use the Force in unexpected ways were not simply rumours or fantasy anymore as their abilities had been more than confirmed.

They could do things that both the dogmatic Jedi and the 'liberated' Sith could only have ever dreamed of. The knowledge that they could turn one thing into another and move with the blink of an eye was now a confirmed fact and not just the tales of drunk spacers with too much time.

That they could even create animals out of thin air and launch strange multicoloured blaster bolts from sticks in their hands was also shown to be true. What was not known was what their limits were and the disturbing thought that they had none permeated the sheep of the general population causing more than a little fear.

They called themselves Magi.

Under other circumstances, Sidious would have _loved_ to study one of them and try and replicate their abilities for his own use. The fact that it would have been under inhumane laboratory conditions and with many safeguards went without saying as it wouldn't be the first time and he even had a well-hidden place for such things although, he did have more immediate concerns right now.

"Damn that stupid fool" he reiterated his thoughts to the empty and unfeeling room.

Though Dooku had tried to rally (and had even managed to win a small skirmish or two) it had effectively made no difference. The Commonwealth not only crushed the opposition but kept the land they took extending their borders as they went.

In the end, the Northern Front was almost completely shattered by them and they had managed to entrap and encircle Dooku in a siege on his homeworld. The Knights of the Silver and the Magi were, of course, in charge of _that_ assault.

The only piece of good news that Sidious had was that (ironically due largely to Yoda's actions) the Republic and the Commonwealth were not working in concert. In fact, they were barely a step or two away from open warfare.

Though there were exceptions to that guideline as the opinions of the Jedi, the Senate and the people varied wildly as always (in large part to the fact that the Holonet reported every victory of the Commonwealth enhancing both citizen's respect and the need for ambitious politicians to be seen as in favour of them as well as the considerable reputation of the Potter family) and the common people simply _loved_ the Commonwealth at the moment.

Still, the damage to his plans was immeasurable.

He had originally intended for the droid factory to remain at their low output and, on the side of the Republic, create more quickly grown but inferior clones in Spaarti Clone Cylinders to balance each other out so that more and more Jedi would be drawn into the conflict and weaken or die.

Instead, his latest orders (less than an hour old) would push the remaining factories far beyond their safety limits and he was even forced to order the construction of many more to make up the losses from the Northern Front.

All of this was done so that the Republic didn't take advantage of their new weakness and end the war far too soon for his liking.

Thankfully all of the projections and the Force agreed that his attempt to salvage the situation would be successful but the damage was done and the Separatists were now firmly on the defensive.

Worse his preferred next apprentice Anakin Skywalker not only had very little to do with him and even seemed to be actively avoiding him. He also spent more and more of his time inside the Commonwealth itself ostentatiously trying to maintain the peace, or at least avoid a war, between them and the Republic.

He was effectively untouchable there and so, like any good politician, he had adapted and he was already laying the groundwork for a new offensive that would draw the eye of the Republic as the overworked factories could (at least temporarily) pick up the slack.

Instead of the long drawn out fight that he had planned, one that slowly killed the Jedi off and prepared them for a decisive killing blow, as the timetable had changed he was going to take a page out of the Commonwealth's book and deliver quick sharp shocks to the body of the Republic before destroying that in a way too.

If I have to sacrifice an apprentice for that, he thought, and one that has proven such a disappointment as well as inept then so much the better. Instead of dismantling the C.I.S droids I will use them to bolster my army and along with the Clones use them to burn the heart out of the Commonwealth as soon as I am done with the Republic.

-LAFA-

Serenno

"My Lord?" Called the stocky Magi Wintergreen clearly wanting Harry's attention. "The Third Assault Wing has reported that the planetary shield has fallen and they are moving on to destroy the anti-aircraft gun emplacements. What are your orders?"

Not many systems, Harry thought, could afford such shielding. It's clear that Dooku cares for his home... more's the pity

"Prepare the ground troops" said Harry while standing on the bridge and lightly meditating on the Force. He was thinking not only of things to come but also trying not to dwell on the grief he felt over the friends that he lost.

Despite that, he could almost feel their ghosts beside him supporting him as they had done all their lives. He could almost see them waiting with cold and impassive faces while they hungered for the final end of Dooku with a cold and burning disgust that transcended death. "Where is Dooku at present?"

"Our droid spies report that he has barricaded himself inside his families Palace along with the other heads of the Great Houses of Serenno. From the comm traffic, he appears to be trying to call in reinforcements from the scattered remnants of the Northern Separatist fleets".

"Will he be successful?" Harry asked with a note of mild curiosity in his voice as, even if they left now, it was doubtful they would get here in time to be of any use.

"According to Grandmaster Jinn...no sir. His fleet has intercepted any that could conceivably answer the call as you have ordered and those that are not dead in space are utterly destroyed".

"Very good. Prepare my personal shuttle and inform the Saber Battalion that they are to land and breach the Palace at all costs".

After a long moment of silence, Harry continued by almost muttering to himself "Qui-gon for someone who never wanted war..you are surprisingly good at it...a sign of the times I suppose".

Unsurprisingly the middle-aged Magi did not comment on his Prince's muttering though he did hear it clearly.

"Will they join you in dealing with Dooku sir?" Harry could almost hear his own wife's voice in the question that could also be taken as a command. It was an observation that he was sure the man was told to _ask_ and one that he was going to ignore.

"No. Their duty is to hold the Palace and find and secure the nobility of Sereno only. Dooku is mine to deal with". His reply was firm, unyielding and cold. "Where is Knight Skywalker?"

"He has been called back to Coruscant to report to the Jedi Council sir" was his stiff and faintly unhappy answer.

Harry both wanted to chuckle at the unspoken disagreement from the younger man and barely hid his own grimace at the thought of that Council and its leader.

"You have the bridge Magi Wintergreen" Harry said at last even as he began the short walk towards his personal hangar and moved to make Dooku meet his well deserved fate.

-LAFA-

Dooku was in a panic although, during the meeting that he had just come from with the other leaders of Sereno, no one in the room was able to tell because of the well practised and calming mask that he had learned to employ as a Jedi so very long ago.

It helped that he had lied to them but, then again, he had to as he couldn't rely on his natural charm like he used to with half of his face covered in a curved (though expensive) mask. Added to that, if he had told them the truth, they would be running about in a completely useless panic and distracting him from what he had to do

Despite the fact that it had several cutting edge micro healing devices that were woven throughout it the metallic looking mask had never healed his wounds. The flesh was as scarred, open and weeping today as it was on the day that Potter had first attacked him with that strange flame.

It still felt to him like his face was on fire and he could even sometimes swear that he still smelt the burning of his own flesh. He even woke screaming every now and again thinking that it was still being done thanks to a nightmarish reliving of the incident.

At those times all he could do was wake a cold sweat and bite back his own screams.

Perhaps, he thought, if I hadn't delved so deeply into the Dark Side of the Force I would be able to use the other side to heal myself…. then again maybe not.

He had tried, with several worthless commoners, to himself by drawing the life out of them and though it _should_ have healed any injury (after the fifth attempt) he gave them up as complete and utter failures.

The only upside of this for him was that the constant pain and bleeding had enabled him to reach new heights in his mastery of the Dark Side. It was not only the pain though but also the constant reminder that he had failed, that he had to be better, to defeat his enemy.

All of that of course only served to power his rage even further.

His Master refused to take any of the few calls if he had been able to get past the, admittedly superb, jamming capabilities of the Commonwealth and he got the distinct impression that not only would help not be coming from that quarter but that it was less one of his Master's many tests more that he was considered a failure and not worth Palpatine's time.

Grievous already spoke for the C.I.S as their new temporary capital world of Xagobah had him as the de facto leader of their parliament.

It wasn't ideal but the Republic was unlikely to believe that the leadership was actually based there due to the inhospitable environment that the planet had. Indeed the large number of people that were required to run the government that was actually there was under specially designed biodomes to protect them from the planets many (and often dangerous) pollens.

Grievous himself was currently riding the wave of being the Separatists new Golden Child of course.

Not only had the war effort in the south not suffered anywhere near as much as his own but, he had recently managed to increase the worlds under his control threefold and with their newly expanded territory came the prestige and power that always seemed to follow a victor.

Their territory now stretched unendingly from Ragmar to Bespin and, with the construction of new factories imminent, his opposite in the south's war effort seemed to only be increasing in speed and power.

That damned Commonwealth, he thought, Grievous makes the whole thing looks so _easy_. He has never had to face the Commonwealth in any large numbers or their strange Magi and the seemingly unending waves of Silver Knights.

He wouldn't have been surprised if there weren't more of them then there were of Jedi.

He couldn't, of course, know how right he was as at their best before the war began there were around five hundred thousand Jedi and now there were double that of the Silver Knights. Worse for the man there were over two and a half million Magi although most of them were not part of the army.

He was not only unaware of this but also a Sith Lord however and, not two miles away, had hidden a fully functional and cloakable ship. He was very much looking forward to escaping and teaching Grievous exactly who was in charge but first, he had to make sure that no one followed him before he wrested control of his government back from the cyborg.

That meant killing Potter and, more than that, he wanted to give the man a taste of the pain that he had suffered before he destroyed him and was confident that his new strength in the Force would be more than enough to accomplish his self-appointed task.

He was a Sith Lord and this meant that Potter did not stand a chance.

-LAFA-

The Dooku family Palace was old. In fact, it was so old that no one was quite sure who had built it though family legend had it that the second Count Dooku had done so.

Regardless of the truth of that, the fact was that every generation of his family going as far back as anyone could remember or record had added something to it. Whether that was inside the building or adding to its external structure was beside the point as it became one of the most beautiful and sprawling sites of the planet.

And almost impossible to defend adequately.

Still, it was full of tasteful art that was centuries old. It had beautifully inlaid mosaics that were masterworks of their form and it was a study of the idea that a home can also be a museum as well as a prime example of wealth coupled with taste.

This was only heightened by the fact that the splendour inside was equally matched by the outside with carved stone and manicured lawns that would make petty Kings of lesser planets weep with envy or gnash their teeth in rage.

Until Harry and his men arrived.

The ancient and breathtaking carved oak doors were rocked by an explosion as they were forced into shards and, if that wasn't enough, with a violent wave of blaster fire following straight afterwards. A long moment after those first shots were fired the Saber Battalion moved in and took as many of Dooku's personal guard as they could.

The B-1's and B-2's that made up the majority of it fell quickly even as several Droidekas rolled forward to take their place on the sudden battlefield. They were supported by many other units and there were even three MagnaGuards forming up behind them ready to fight.

Thanks to the latter model being both heavily armoured, armed and largely constructed of phirk they would have usually been a very large problem except that, as they began to move forward, the windows shattered and in dropped Harry along with several JK droids (with jet pack mods) and two Knights of the Silver.

The Knights used the Force to lift the two Droidikas and slam them into each other even as Harry rolled under a MagnaGuard's attack, parried the swipe of another and slammed a lightning wrapped and Force augmented hand into the centre of the third as he rose to his feet. The strength of that attack (as well as the lightning racing through its system) managed to destroy it's animation circuitry and made it, mostly, harmless.

As he turned to fully face the other two his own HP's began to march through the now broken door still firing at the enemy and the other Silver Knights and JK's began to move in with their own blades darting in on the unfeeling enemy.

Before the deadly machines could fully react and defend themselves they were overwhelmed and brutally dismantled.

It was only moments after that when more troops, both organic and droid, poured in to maintain a perimeter only, this time, there were also Magi among them.

"Magi York?" Harry called.

"Yes, sir?"

"You are in command of the building. Find the other Counts and leaders, detain them, and if anyone puts up any sort of resistance put them down with impunity. Am I clear?" Harry's voice was crisp with the tone of a commander that was well used to being obeyed.

"Yes sir" the man replied with a resigned note in his own voice.

The Knights and the Magi each moved off with a group of droids, leaving only those few needed to form a perimeter, as Harry himself headed deeper into the building demolishing any resistance in his way with consummate ease. He didn't need a map to follow after all as the seething angry darkness of Dooku was more than clear to his senses.

-LAFA-

As the lightsaber began to melt the reinforced door Dooku began to focus his rage into a sharp point and, responding to the rise in temperature, seven concealed heavy turrets sprung from the walls, floor and ceiling.

As soon as more than the tip of the blade appeared on his side of the door the turrets began to fire and Dooku launched all of his anger and rage into a veritable Force Storm of agony and death.

What he saw next caused his mouth to open in complete and utter shock even as Harry stepped through into the room.

Some form of small blue glowing shield had appeared instantaneously in front of Harry's empty hand even as his lightsaber flew from his other one in a quick graceful arch destroying each and every turret. More amazingly Harry's now empty hand was batting away blaster bolts like annoying flies while waiting for the lightsaber to return to it.

His most hated enemy arched and twisted moved and it seemed that he almost was casually dancing through the maelstrom of dark energy directed at him leaving only death and destruction in his wake.

Dooku had learned a lot from their last encounter however as, with a push of a button, two more turrets appeared and started to launch double rockets at Harry even as Dooku threw his own lightsaber into the fray.

He knew (from his own long history of teaching them for many years) that they are almost no Jedi that would be able to stop such an attack and he could think of none at all that could do so uninjured no matter how skilled they were.

With a flick of Harry's wrist, Dooku watched the first two missiles turn to water before his very eyes and the next two turned back on to the turrets themselves. His lightsaber meanwhile was directed away by Harry's own as it returned to the man and he found himself right where he did not want to be as he quickly called the weapon back to his hand.

In close combat with Harry Potter.

Here he was in the heart of his power and in his ancestral home which was always the place where he was strongest and could feel the whispers of the Force the best.

It seemed to make no difference.

Here he had generations of history and his unending hatred of the man that was placed before him like a sacrificial lamb. Here he brought his years of training as a Jedi to the fore as well as an impressive grasp of the Dark Side to attack the Commonwealth's leader.

And instead of killing the man it seemed to only mildly inconvenience him.

He threw everything as he could, from the lamps and the chairs to the ceiling panels themselves, and he also threw Force Lightning as well as using his lightsaber to form manoeuvres and thrusts that almost any Jedi could not keep up with.

He thought that only his master, Darth Sidious, could ever hope to match them and he had in the main refused to do so using instead his more impressive grasp on the Force to power through them.

That was what he thought until this battle with Harry Potter has he found all of his preparation and training was as good as doing nothing.

Every swipe and thrust was meticulously countered. His own Lightning was either absorbed, redirected or returned. Harry even surprised Dooku by sending some of his own at the man and he had to wonder, as he hastily moved away from it, if the beloved leader of the Commonwealth was falling right in front of him or if he had been studying the Dark Side secretly for years without anyone knowing.

By the third blow, he was forced out of position by the seventh, his footwork was in ruins trying to defend himself and by the tenth, he was simply looking for a way to escape with his arms aching and his chest heaving from exhaustion.

In a desperate gambit, he jumped away while throwing the last piece of solid furniture (a small table no longer than a man laying down) at Harry.

To Dooku's increasing shock and horror, the table became a wolf that turned around and before it could ever get close to hitting Harry ran directly at him clearly going for his throat.

Dooku took a precious second or two to dispatch the wolf with the same skill that he had always shown and for anyone else that would have been too small of a window to do any damage.

Fighting an angry Harry Potter, however, it managed to cost him his non-saber wielding arm.

The sudden loss (and the pain that came along with it) fueled his powers further even as it made him physically weaker and he instinctively, almost drunkenly, pushed Harry back with a barely controlled push of the Force.

The strength of it was so great that Harry sailed through the air only to smash heavily, back first, into the wall.

-LAFA-

Harry bit his lip until it bled as his back groaned and protested against the strength of the old reinforced wall that he had hit.

His muscles ached and his senses sharpened as the adrenaline washed over him even as his blood felt like it had begun to burn his very veins as the amount of Force and magic that he had been overusing.

But he could not stop, would not stop, as his purpose was clear.

Pushing his mind and tired limbs beyond what he would normally consider his limit (those turrets packed quite a punch and he had put everything into the start of the fight to hopefully end it quickly) and jumped back into the fray slashing down as he went.

The weary Dooku simply could not raise his weapon quickly enough and lost his other arm when he tried to do so. With an almost negligent flick of Harry's saber, the man soon lost both of his legs as well.

"End it!" Dooku snarled and the hate and disgust dripped from his words like poison. Harry was just a vicious in his reply when he leaned down and immobilised the man, smiling all the while, before he began to speak.

"No….not yet" he said."This is what I am going to do to you".

As Harry began to whisper what was going to happen into Dooku's ear the man's face paled at first and then filled slowly with impotent rage. Thanks to the spell he had cast however that was all it would ever be as, though Dooku would dearly love to stop him, he still couldn't move.

"You" said Harry with cold finality "are going to die the death that you have _earned_ ".

He would have, under other circumstances, read the man's mind at that moment but his earlier exertions had made that simple attack impossible at present.

Harry then slowly walked away after renewing the paralysis on the man and felt lighter even as the man lay there with his mind stuck on his own fear of what was going to happen to him. All the once great Jedi turned Sith Lord could do was go slowly insane with it and wonder how long he had left to live.

Impotent and alone.

-LAFA-

Three hours later the planet of Serenno was clear of all innocents that the Magi could find and the Commonwealth Cruiser _Silver Flame_ all of the civilians who wish to go with them while it's sister ship the _Hope_ has the far greater number that would be sent along to the Republic... eventually.

Below the only people left alive were the Counts of the planet and every spy, C.I.S loyalist and enemy that couldn't be trusted and could be found in such a short time.

Dooku was down there too of course and all were very well guarded by droids who had no compunction in harming, restraining or killing those that tried to escape.

Harry stared down at the planet and slowly let go of his hatred.

It would do him no good, in the long run, to carry that with him and after he was done here he would let it rest as well as consigning both it and Dooku to his past.

For a Force User holding on to hatred like that was far more damaging not just to their psyche. The Sith were more than evidence enough of the folly of that even discounting the high likelihood of madness and obsession that was riddled throughout both their long history and when they had Orders large enough, their ranks.

Each power in this war had created and was still creating superweapons. Thanks to the Commonwealth's spies they knew that the Sith were developing something called a Death Star although it was still in its early stages.

Both the C.I.S and the Republic had created superweapons that were designed to be mounted on ships though, at present, only the former had managed to install one on the _Malevolence_ and that had recently been destroyed.

Which was no doubt one of the many reasons that Dooku had been searching for ancient and half-forgotten superweapons in the first place.

The Commonwealth had been far more successful than its cousins and had managed to create two with both in a limited form of mass production. One of these was called the Silver Twin and looked very like two torpedos put together being covered in a specially coated (and rune crusted) N.A.S sheath. It was then also housed in a sharp and pointed casing that was made to punch through extreme obstacles and survive great pressures.

"Launch the Silver Twin" commanded Harry and the droid at weapons control, simply following its programming, didn't even hesitate to comply.

The comparatively small weapon sped towards the planet and when it hit it but deeply into the ground heading for its target which was the planet's Core. By the time that it had reached there the outer casing had all but melted away due to both the magma and the pressure.

The first of the two (and larger) inner torpedoes activated in a flare of runes magically copying and increasing the magma around it at a prodigious rate until it itself was overwhelmed by what it made and was consumed in fire.

The second also had runes although of a different type, two sets of them to be exact, and while this was going on the first set activated a shield that protected the remaining part of the weapon from what was going to come.

Even with the most advanced shield that they could create it would not last long given the amount of pressure but it was now under but it was not meant to.

When it failed the final stage of the weapon was activated with the last set of runes blazing into a light no one could see as they were hit. They first condensed all of the magma around it that it could find (including all of the extra that had been produced).

Finally, when nature had begun to destroy the array, the carefully calculated explosive charge activated. This pushed all of the volatile liquid upward shooting it straight from the very Core of the planet and on to the surface as well as the sky above.

The only reason that the explosive was carefully calculated was because the weapon was not designed to make the planet explode under pressure from the inside out.

Instead, it effectively it turned every deep crack and dormant volcano on the planet into an active one as well as turning the very shaft that it had created getting to the Core into a super volcano.

Serenno was once known as one of the most beautiful worlds of the Republic spoken in the same breath as the idyllic scenery of Naboo but after today that would no longer be the case.

The rolling green pastures were already burning and the beautiful architecture was doomed to fall into a liquid fire that would not cease for a very long time. Thousands of years of history would be lost in moments when even the sky began to fill with black smoke and ash that would soon block out the sun and turn the once picturesque view (from orbit) into a rolling and angry grey black marble.

And that was how the Nobility of Serenno died. The weapon had been launched in such a place that they would not simply be consumed by magma straight away and instead either choked on the ash in the air or burnt alive as the magma eventually began to reach them.

The whole planet was swamped within minutes of the weapon having been activated and the planet itself was soon dead and would be for centuries if nothing was done to repair or moderate the damage.

Even if someone did it would likely be the Commonwealth given the Republic's track record in these things and even if, by some miracle, they did so the world as it was would never exist again.

That being said the Commonwealth, when explanations were demanded, simply pointed out that this was the price for killing their best and brightest. It was not your death you needed to worry about nor was it the death of your family or friends but, instead, the destruction of your entire planet and effectively the wiping of its entire existence from history.

Thankfully, for their reputation, the fact that the Commonwealth had almost complete influence on the Holo-Net meant that destruction of the planet was seen less as a symbol of fear and more one of triumph and justice as the C.I.S's hold and the North had been well and truly ended.

-LAFA-

Coruscant

 _Breaking news now in the war effort with information still coming in. The Northern Front has been completely defeated but, not by the Grand Army of the Republic as instead (and once again proving without a doubt that the Potter family aids the Republic now more than ever) Serenno is destroyed and uninhabitable._

 _Although this, of course, is a great loss to the Republic many believe that is a price well worth paying as it is lead to the death of the Separatist Leader, rebel and former Jedi Count Dooku._

 _A Senator, on the condition of anonymity…_

The transmitting device stopped working as it crumbled under the power of a Sith Lords rage.

He couldn't quite believe the state of affairs with General Grievous, once considered only a blunt instrument, now in charge of the Separatist Movement and the loss of the Northern Front made everything much more desperate.

With a negligent wave of his hand, Sidious threw the broken transmitter away and calmly pressed a button below his desk to order a replacement now that he had vented, if only slightly, his anger.

Still, he thought suddenly calming, it hasn't been a complete loss as the plan has made progress not even counting Grievous's sometimes stunning victories against the Republic.

As if in answer to his thought a personal door chime was heard throughout his room and it was almost silently opened admitting a Jedi Master.

"Ahhh Kara" said Palpatine smiling and infusing his voice with just the right amount of warmth "you are, as ever, as beautiful as you are powerful. I do so enjoy the pleasure of your company and I'm so glad that you were able to join me for dinner once again".

"This is the only thing good about being stuck at the Temple right now" she grumbled in reply and then returned his smile. "Your company and your dinners that is".

Both of them moved towards his private dining table and, as they sat down, Palpatine struggled to withhold his private amusement at the idea of a Sith Lord sitting down to have dinner with a Jedi Master in a companionable fashion.

Then again he was well aware that although she was once again on the Jedi High Council she was somewhat ostracized and had been for some time due to her belief that the Commonwealth was a much greater threat than Dooku or the Confederacy itself.

He had managed to use that alienation to not only deepen their friendship to a point where they had dinners regularly but also to the point that they would (and he often privately laughed at this) tell each other whatever was on their minds.

It was ironic that the very concern that Yoda had for her and his single-minded desire to keep her from both the path of anger as well as the Dark Side of the Force had led her to having many intimate dinners with a Sith Lord.

Adding to the woman's frustration was the fact that Yoda was so worried about her strong emotional outbursts and growing focus on the Potters that she had been banned from joining the war effort in any meaningful way as he feared what the influence of highly emotional combat would do to her or perhaps, more accurately, drive her to do.

For Palpatine, it was merely another weakness that he could exploit.

The table was already set and it also included the most mouth-watering three-course meal that he, with his vast resources, was able to get in record time. It would be fair to say that the likes of this meal which most people would rarely if ever see and was likely something that the Jedi never actually had before.

This he knew especially well as it was the Senate that controlled the Jedi temples budget and they would never pay a bill for such extravagant food out of the public funds unless, of course, the meal was to be eaten by them.

They even had an excuse for their actions handed to them by the fact that the Jedi was supposed to live a simple and unencumbered life. In short, instead of enjoying life's luxuries, they were supposed to put that aside and simply commune with the Force for the betterment of the Republic as well as protect it when need be.

A life of fine dining did not, and never would, mesh with that lifelong goal.

"So how have you been since we last spoke?" Palpatine asked with a voice that was impregnated with just the right amount of concern, friendship and compassion while tinged (if only faintly) with sympathy.

Kara controlled her facial expressions but, to Palpatine's finely tuned senses, her frustration and dismay were more than clear.

"Training Younglings in basic lightsaber skills is rewarding" she replied shortly as if she had been asked this question many times by many people.

"But a waste of your talents" soothed Palpatine while serving first her and then himself the first course with a soft and sympathetic smile.

She smiled back before catching herself and reasserting a blind mask on her face as, though she tried not to show it, the fact that the leader of the Republic served her first not only spoke of a certain symbolism but it was also quite touching to her.

"You are powerful" he continued "intelligent and have a mind for actively defending the innocent with great skill. I know it's bad of me but I can't help but wonder how many lives will be lost without you there to protect them".

"How goes the war?" Master Durvan asked.

"Surely as a Jedi" he began and with a gentle shrug "you know just as much as me?"

When he spoke he pretended not to notice the slight wince that flitted across her face and that, for all her training she was unable to hide completely, as she remembered that under other circumstances he would be right or at least very close to it.

"My access to such information" she replied with a trace of anger seeping through her voice "is severely restricted thanks to the eternal wisdom of Master Yoda. All I know of the destruction of Serenno, for example, is thanks to the propaganda that is laughingly called the Holo-Net".

"Well the planet is as good as obliterated" stated Palpatine who was also annoyed with the news service though for very different reasons.

He had tried, several times in fact, to take control of it but was frustratingly denied as over seventy per cent of it was currently held by various holding companies and he had, as of yet, been unable to find the owner's to wrest control of it for himself. "It's destruction however is hardly a victory for the Republic".

"What do you mean by that?" Kara asked having noticed a slight look of discomfort that passed like a shadow over his face.

"I don't know if I should tell you" began Palpatine with artfully feigned reluctance.

"Chancellor…. are we not friends? Every single time I have needed someone you have been there for me and I swear, not just as a Jedi but also as your friend, that I will not share what you are about to tell me with anyone".

"They have created a...superweapon" he replied with just the right mixture of conviction and reluctance.

"Who?" Kara asked and then Palpatine watched, secretly delighted, as the realisation hit her and her face twisted into a scowl. "The _Commonwealth_ has superweapons!?"

"I'm afraid so my dear" he answered with a sorrowful tone all the while drinking in her delicious facial expressions. "And before you ask of course I tried to warn the Senate of the danger but...I am only one man"

"Against those Senators that have been bribed by the Commonwealth, those that will always sue for peace at any cost and those that would take a stand against you personally I can see how that would be a problem".

"My biggest fear is far worse than a few Senators" Palpatine added. "If it was just that it would be one thing but I worry that they have gotten to select Jedi as well".

"Surely not!" Kara gasped.

"It _is_ only logical my dear. Think about how quickly the Commonwealth responded to the Arkanian situation...there must be a spy somewhere".

"That doesn't mean that there are spies in the Jedi Order" Kara argued half-heartedly but with clear doubt in her voice.

"That" Palpatine said "would be the _least_ distressing of the options that I have been considering lately. You must admit to the possibility that they have bought a Jedi or have turned one to their cause exists..young Anakin perhaps?"

"I cannot believe that" she responded weakly even as the delicious food in front of her was forgotten as the possibilities swam in her mind.

"You don't want to and frankly neither do I but, such a thing _must_ be considered. Why else would they sideline your tactical genius so effectively? It can't all be because of their concerns over your anger 'issues' and it is well known that you are not a fan of the Commonwealth"

Kara didn't know it but Palpatine was subtly weaving the Force into his words at that point.

All she knew was that the things he was saying what opening several new possibilities up and her mind that, thanks to more than a year of dinners like these, were finding very fertile ground. "Not to mention you are a very striking woman" he added disarmingly.

Despite herself and her Jedi training, she found that she was flushing at the light flirting which had edged into the last remark.

She knew logically that he meant nothing by it as he was a politician but, it was a mark of how different and open their relationship had become (especially in relation her own relationship with other Jedi at this time) that he would even say it at all.

Lately, she had even found herself trusting him more than the Jedi she used to look up to in some situations... especially when it came to her frustrations with the Jedi order and the Potters and she found herself talking more and more using his sympathetic ear to vent.

Just as he had planned all along.

"Perhaps you are right" she conceded at length although she was still not comfortable with admitting that herself. "But as much as I hate to admit it but Potter's are stronger than I am either separately or together".

"What if I could help?" Palpatine asked mildly to which she, of course, laughed.

"You are not a Jedi my friend so I'm afraid you could hardly help me" she replied until she saw his uncomfortable look and pressed. "What... what is it they are not telling me?"

"This time I really shouldn't say anything" Palpatine began with a grimace " as I don't want to put you in any _awkward_ positions".

"Tell me" she answered with a voice like steel even as she reached out and squeezed his hand with her own. "I already said that I would be there for you... am there an that means keeping your secret no matter what they are?"

"I am a collector" he finally said hesitatingly but with some gravity to it and she knew exactly what he meant from those words alone.

Throughout history, many non-Force Sensitive people had collected Jedi and Sith artefacts. Some were harness like a famous Jedi Masters robe or the mask of a supposed Sith Lord while others, such as Holocrons and lightsabers, were far from that benign.

It was a Jedi's duty to confiscate any artefacts that these people had gathered as well as arrest them as some were very dangerous and it was a crime to do what they did. Given that it was a very big concession on Palpatine's part as technically she should simply arrest him for admitting it.

I can't do that to my friend, she thought, much less the Chancellor of the Republic. I can only imagine what such a thing would do to the Senate and the Republic... not to mention that it might lose us the war.

"How long?" She asked half afraid of the answer and as much to stall and gain enough time for her to decide on a course of action as well as to gather information.

"Many, many years" was the disquieting answer.

"Why tell me now?" she asked.

"You are as powerful as Master Windu" he said while giving her a frank look "and maybe you will grow more powerful still if only the Council would let you and you can put your well-justified distrust of the Potter family into a proper perspective".

"How am I supposed to do that when I can't let it go?" She asked defensively having had many similar conversations with Yoda over the years if only from the other side.

"Then do not let it go" he suggested gently.

"What" she almost screeched in shock "am I supposed to use it like some Sith of old?"

"Not at all" he lied soothingly. "A technique came into my possession recently that should help you. I'd offer you more information but only a Force Sensitive can use it…".

"And you are not one" she added unthinkingly to which he smiled indulgently while allowing her logical mistake to free him from having to lie again.

"This discipline should allow you to create a box inside of yourself, maintained by your own power, where you can store all of your strong emotions. For all intents and purposes, it will allow to fully control them once again...more than that it should improve your control by leaps and bounds".

"Thereby allowing me to return to the frontlines and help end this war" she added.

"And you could keep watch on the Potters as well. I'm sure an argument completely supported by cold logic and devoid of passion would carry much more weight with the High Council" he added trying to give her an extra push.

"Is there any risk?" Kara couldn't hide the fact that she was intrigued.

"You can rejoin the war effort if that is what you wish" he said and then added "and would I bring it up if I thought that there was any risk?"

"What must I do?" She said after a long minute of introspection. Her voice was more than simply eager now as Palpatine rose, took her by the hand, and led her like a lamb to the slaughter to his desk.

On which sat a few carefully edited pieces of flimsiplast.

The method that he was suggesting was used by many Sith sporadically over the centuries and had last been pressed into service by Darth Malak. They had used it to convert particularly stubborn, if foolish, Jedi when speed was the most important consideration in conversion.

It was also used during the time of the older Sith Empires to help young impressionable Sith to access the Force but fell out of favour years ago and was mostly forgotten until Darth Bane had begun the task of collecting as much knowledge as possible.

It would, as he had promised, contain her negative emotions. What he had failed to mention was the fact that these walls were not only weak but would subtly compress and amplify those feelings. That would continue until they broke out and like a poisonous wave begin the very short battle like an infection of every thought and emotion that she had.

That, in turn, would lead to a swift and unstoppable fall to the Dark Side of the Force.

The biggest downside of this was that it required, quite paradoxically, at least a small amount of agreement from the subject and only their own manipulation of their energies to make it work. This was the main reason why it had never supplanted torture in the conversion of wayward Jedi.

Palpatine smiled behind her back as the foolish woman became absorbed in her reading.

War, he thought, was not just about battles and blood. What it was also about was the hearts and minds of the rabble and the taking of key pieces on the board.

That, in and of itself, was an aspect of the war that he fully intended to win. After all Operation Knightfall would need a new leader and he did find himself lacking an apprentice.

-LAFA-

Serenno System

The six large space stations (that were being built exceptionally fast by a veritable horde of worker droids and ships) were almost complete and would provide a bulwark against any future attack on the Commonwealth.

Most systems in the Commonwealth had at least one, normally two, of these stations and they looked very much like a large flat dish with a tail coming down from the middle that tapered to a sharp point.

The tail was necessary because it provided the majority of the power (and magical battery storage) for the running of the stations as well as the automatic commands, if destroyed, that would activate their mundane backup systems.

It also had the heaviest shielding that the Commonwealth could provide while the dish was an eclectic mix of heavy weaponry that would make most navies desperate to have.

Harry was standing on the bridge of the _Silver Flame_ watching them be constructed and thinking about what they might do next all the while having one arm loosely wrapped around his wife.

Luna, for her part, was busy communing with the Force and was both distantly aware of, and very grateful for, his comforting presence as she threw her practised mind into the divergent possibilities that were the future.

Having him close like this always helped anchor her to the present and, privately, she always found it good to wake from her journey in the loving arms of her husband.

"It is decided" she said abruptly and both somehow softly, sorrowfully and firmly all at once.

"Are we to attack the Southern Front then my love?" Harry asked with a note of curiosity playing in his voice.

"No. If we do that then we lose..and very badly... as it is not the time and will most likely not be our fight. The Galaxy will then fall back into the same destructive cycle but it always has had until either no trained Force Users are left alive or the Galaxy itself dies a very early and painful death".

Though she spoke in her normal voice, one that he had become accustomed to over the years, Harry could not remember it ever sounding so bleak while still being somehow comfortingly succinct and crisp.

"What then is decided if we are not going to attack the Separatists?"

"The identity of the Sith Lords new apprentice has been resolved" she said.

"Who is it?"

"Not Anakin or any one of ours. I do not know who but I do know that we have not personally met them or I'd have a clearer picture of who it was. To be honest the multitude of possibilities of who it could have been make it much more difficult for me to tell as well".

"Is there anything else that you can tell me?" Harry asked.

"Only that our surprise in the Chapterhouses will be needed and a name, though its meaning is hidden in shadow, it is always there like a cloud on the edge of my vision….. Operation Knightfall".

"Seers" Harry joked lightly "always so mysterious and full of metaphor".

"You love me anyway" said Luna impishly.

"That I do" Harry easily agreed before turning serious once again. "Whatever it is, is clearly aimed at the Jedi".

"Of course" she agreed. "The Sith hate everything in the Galaxy, it is their nature, but they hate the Jedi most of all".

"So what do we do now the war is over for us?"

"I never said" she began sadly "that the war is over for us... I only wish it was my love. It will come whether we want it to or not and we will still have to prepare".

"More ships" Said Harry tiredness and something close to despair almost screaming from his body language. "More droids, more blood and more death".

"I'm sorry" she said while softly stroking his face affectionately for the briefest of moments. "But this may end up being hardest on you most of all".

"Do you remember" Harry began wistfully " when our biggest problem was keeping our friendship a secret and we chatted in hidden rooms throughout a dusty castle?"

"Those were the days. Let's be honest though the castle was never that dusty... the House Elves would never allow it".

She smiled and he laughed. For a brief moment, they were there again before all of the betrayals and the very long journey that he had taken to find her and together make a home.

"Soon this will all end one way or another" she added finally.

"And then..." Harry said meaningfully.

"And then" she agreed.

-LAFA-

"Padmé!" called Anakin Skywalker known Jedi Knight and also called the Hero Without Fear as he looked for his wife (though in secret) in the home that they shared as often as both the Jedi and the war effort allowed.

Soon enough he had found her and was involved in his wife's loving embrace and, if anything good has come from this war, it was that they both had learned to enjoy these moments of softness and peace.

"Ani…. I have missed you" she said was feeling and then proceeded to kiss him even as her hands moved slowly down to his hips. Anakin was in no position to complain, despite the fact he still disliked the childhood nickname, as his own hands were hurriedly stripping his wife to get to her yielding and warm flesh.

Later, after their immediate needs had been stated, he was slowly stroking up and down the flesh of her inner thigh causing goosebumps to follow his relaxed but gently questing fingers.

Their marriage was an open secret amongst a very select few. Qui-Gon knew of course but now, as the older man was no longer a Jedi, he felt no immediate need to tell anyone and in fact had entered a relationship of his own.

Anakin thought that Obi-Wan Kenobi knew but, if he did, he turned a blind eye to it largely due to the effect Anakin had on the war effort and the sibling-like relationship the two men had shared all of their lives.

Harry and Luna knew as well as they were not only the two witnesses at the wedding (and the only guests) but it had also taken place in the Commonwealth itself. Given their own unique relationship they were more than happy to support their friends in finding a little bit of solace for themselves. It also helped that they _strongly_ disagreed with the Jedi's current policies on marriage.

Still, things are more complicated than that now, he thought, while stroking his wife's pregnant belly, and things must change again.

"I am going to leave the Jedi" he said breaking the soft and quiet moment as his wife's eyes snap open from the drowsy pleasure that she was feeling.

"But you love being a Jedi" she argued after a long moments thought.

"No. I love _you_. I do love learning about the Force as well as helping people and it's not that I don't think what the Jedi do is worthwhile but there are other ways to do that".

"The Knights of the Silver" she stated while carefully withholding judgement and all he could do was shrug.

"Let's be honest I have been trained as both for years and we both knew this choice was coming. It is an open secret amongst the Jedi Masters that they sent me here to evaluate the threat that the Commonwealth could pose to the Republic. I honestly think, especially after Qui-gon left, that the only reasons they allowed me to keep coming were because no other Jedi are allowed in and the training I received here helps me fight against the Separatists".

"I think that it is only Jedi Masters Yoda and Windu that truly have any idea how helpful that has been especially with all the deaths and replacements on the Council that this war has caused…. though from what you tell me neither man is comfortable with it" she added.

"Yes" Anakin agreed "if either more Jedi were allowed here or the war was not raging on I think I would have been recalled permanently a long time ago. What they don't know, as neither I nor Qui-Gon has told them, is that apart from the armour that they have gifted me with I've had a standing invitation to join them since childhood".

"What about Master Durvan?" Padmé asked and felt a pang of regret as his face instantly hardened.

"With her... issues... regarding the Commonwealth she was never told and I don't believe she will ever be".

"I am not ready to abandon the Republic" she stated as she understood his unspoken offer just as he understood the steel in her voice.

Both knew that, if he abandoned the Jedi as that's how they would see it, he would not be welcome back in the Republic for quite some time so if she stayed... she would stay alone.

"This war will end soon and nothing has to be decided now" he said before a shadow of pain flittered across his face. "Besides this little getaway has been good and it has been wonderful to see Ahsoka again".

"Is it the Force or just a feeling telling you that the war will end soon oh great Master Jedi" Padmé teased him and he chuckled quietly.

"A feeling..." he said slowly " but the Separatists are trapped in the south now and when the war is over Naboo may not need you as Senator as much".

"After the war" Padmé said with her brow furrowed in thought.

"After the war" he agreed.

Regardless of anything else, at that moment, both understood how uncertain the future was and did the only thing that they could do. They couldn't control the war, or the Jedi, the Republic or the Commonwealth but they could and did grasp as much time with other as they could while they could.


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35: Knightfall

19 -18 BBY

3634 - 2635 ATC

Present Day

Kara Durvan screamed in ecstasy as both she and her lover reached their peaks and lay down next to each other on the ridiculously expensive sheets of his bed in his decadent personal chambers.

She had learned so much since she first accepted his help and her eyes had been well and truly opened.

She told herself that she wasn't in love with the man beside her and she knew that he wasn't in love with her. Instead, their lovemaking was less about actual love and more about a struggle for dominance.

She also told herself she had few illusions especially as she initiated it soon after she has been recalled from the war but, despite all that, it was still enjoyable and she did have some feelings for him whether she admitted it or not.

She was not sure when her views on the universe had changed, not the exact date at least, but she knew where.

She had been in command of a small detachment of Clone Troopers in the small backwater world of Lugesh evacuating refugees before the next assault from General Grievous could begin. The problem with that was that there were too many humans that lived on the world that were nomadic by nature and also quite clannish in their outlook.

That made them very difficult around up even to save their own lives.

-LAFA-

Six Months Earlier Than Present

For the Force's sake, she thought irritably, why must the Hawk Clan be so stubborn? But no... they have to travel for their silly hunting rituals and they can never leave any single person behind. Never mind the fact that it puts me at risk as well as the others... _tradition_ must be maintained.

She ground her teeth against her own irritated thoughts not quite aware of the box that housed all of her negative emotions cracking deeply (as it had slowly been over the past few weeks) more and more almost literally splitting wider and wider hour-by-hour.

It leaked her constrained and condensed emotions, that had only become more powerful and vicious from being bottled up for so long, like a fetid and weeping sore. It had begun to change her, all unnoticed, with the very first tiny crack.

Her current warped, frustrated and un-Jedi like thoughts were a prime example of that.

Standing as she was at one of the last Space Docks entrances waiting for the stragglers to turn up she could not help her thoughts though. As almost every other evacuation ship had already left the system disguised as freighters, trading ships, slave ships and even a cruise liner or two, she understood the stakes.

She just found it very difficult to actually give a damn.

The idea was that anything that was considered unimportant on threatening was used as they were even trying to get people out on garbage ships just in case they were stopped as they exited the system into the wider Galaxy.

But now the Separatists were in the system and even beginning to land on the planet increasing the risk not only of discovery but, also to the lives of everyone that had gone before and everyone still on the ground including the refugees and herself.

On the one hand, they were only a few people left but on the other, the majority of those that were left was the slowest being mostly old and lame.

It would make much more sense, she thought as she saw an elderly couple come from the dense tree line that was blocking her long distance vision, if they were left behind for the good of all.

She immediately on reflex tried to crush that very uncharitable notion, however, her heart was not in it and it was more of a perfunctory attempt than one infused with the conviction of the Jedi Order.

As the couple half ran and a half hobbled towards her she cursed as they were followed by droids... lots of droids.

She threw her lightsaber into the action and it arced out and decapitated the leading three but, before she could do more, many more of them were advancing and opening fire already.

Not many attacked her though as although a lightsaber-wielding Jedi was clearly the greatest threat she was not their main target and their programming fixated on the elderly couple who almost fell to a moment of concentrated fire.

"Please help us!" Screamed the woman holding onto a man that could have been her father or her husband even as his body shook under the weight of six or seven direct hits and she herself took two high in her legs.

Kara wanted to shout herself at the utter uselessness of that request. Not only was the man clearly dead (or would be as soon as his brain caught up with his body on the matter) but the woman would now only walk slower if she could even put aside her grief to do so.

So much weeping and wailing during combat, she thought even as she battled a few errant shots back to the droids destroying a few, how _pathetic_.

In hadn't really occurred until that moment that she had been standing there, like a proverbial statue, rather than rushing in to help them as a Jedi was taught to do but, she couldn't even muster up the vague notion of pretending to try and help them before now.

The flying lightsaber was more a reflex to save herself rather one to save them, she admitted deep in her mind, and she took a millisecond to see if she was okay with that.

Nature, she thought, _never_ rewards the weak.

Still, they asked for help and in the next moment, after the elderly woman called out, two things happened that changed the course of her life forever.

First, and most important, the box inside her well and truly broke even as she half staggered under the emotional shock of her perceptions changing and as (unbeknownst to her) her thinking was well and truly tainted as well as being shifted away from serving others and more towards self-interest.

The line between light and darkness, love and hate, selflessness and selfishness, was often much thinner than most people were ever comfortable admitting.

Then, immediately afterwards, she had what she could only call an epiphany.

She was more _important_ than those two who were calling out for help. She was simply more valuable and it was that idea that drove her next action.

What, she thought, after all, could they do to help the war effort compared to her? How could they turn the tide with the broken aged bodies or achieve victory when it was needed the most?

She was more important and so her needs took precedent and she knew this down to her very core.

Essentially, at the moment, good for her was good for the war and what was good for the war was good for the Republic which she was supposed to serve.

The doomed couple were merely distractions that she could not afford.

So, before she even thought about it, her lightsaber flew out once again and killed the two who needed her as what _she_ needed, at that moment, was to simply survive.

Before the droids could regroup and turn their weapons on her she turned and fled to the last ship and was gone before the majority of the C.I.S. forces on the planet could be alerted to her location.

It didn't even occur to her until later that she had just murdered two people in cold blood and, when she realised that, she was disturbed.

She wasn't concerned that she had actually done it and that, oddly enough, disturbed her more than anything until a final thought came to her that soothed all of her doubts.

People change in war, she thought, and I am _needed_ to win this conflict so that we can face the greater one with the Commonwealth to come. If there are any problems, which I doubt, they must be put aside until I have done what I need to do.

Still, she eventually decided that she would talk it over with the Chancellor later as he was always there to listen to her no matter her problems or his busy schedule.

3 Months Earlier Than Present

At first, she had been disturbed by the simple fact that she hadn't been disturbed.

Then she had spoken to her friend Chancellor Palpatine (in person of course as this was too sensitive to do in other ways) and told him everything as, by this point, as far as _she_ was concerned they had no secrets from one another.

It wasn't even all one-sided, advice wise, as he often brought her attention to small problems that he was having either in the Senate or with her fellow Jedi and at first it had confused her that he was having any trouble at all with the Jedi.

At first.

Now she understood. That understanding had begun when she realised, embarrassingly late, that he _never_ asked for her advice as a Jedi. Never did his questions begin with her title but rather her given name and his voice almost caressed the syllables in its decadent silken tone.

She felt restrained and near disgusted with the Jedi as they not only questioned her but, also the great man that was both her friend and doing the very difficult job of leading the Republic during these trying times.

That was one of the reasons why she had not informed the Council about her continued meetings with the man or even that she was currently on Coruscant at all.

In fact, as far as they were concerned, she was recuperating on a long slow journey back from Bespin and was due to report on her progress concerning her part in the war effort within a week.

"I foresee" began Palpatine over the first course of one of their many dinners "that you may have a problem when you report in".

"I don't think so" she disagreed "I just don't need to tell them everything that I have done since I left the Temple".

"That is not _quite_ what I meant" argued Palpatine.

"Oh?" Kara then felt herself flush briefly at her own inelegant response.

"It is my understanding that Jedi can sense an….aura…maybe even get the sense of a person's experience from the Force... is that true?"

"Yes" she answered "though it is more complicated and less precise than what you probably imagine except with certain very rare abilities and no living Jedi possesses those...I would know...every Force User would".

"Still" Palpatine answered "do you not think that it is a risk that someone like Master Yoda might sense your experiences and try to keep you from the war once again?".

"Perhaps..but there is not a lot I can do about it except avoid the few with strong senses. I find it so frustrating that they can't see that we only do what we _have_ to do to keep the Republic strong".

"A conflict that, as bound by dogma that we know average Jedi are, they don't even see coming" he agreed swiftly.

"So" Kara said neatly turning the conversation back to the original point. "How do I stop their narrow-minded and pig-headed views stopping me from doing what we need to do to win this war?"

"We...you _need_ to achieve victory" Palpatine stated with conviction and a certain amount of relish in his voice. "I know a man….he helped me attain some of those artefacts… and he is neither a Jedi or part of the Commonwealth. He has managed to remain hidden from both although each would seek to control or harm him if they could ever lay hands on the man. His services may be expensive but I'm sure that he could teach you many methods to control your aura".

"He's not….a Sith..is he?" She asked with just a shadow of worry in her voice.

"I have known him for years. If he was Sith surely he would have killed me by now? I also doubt that he would charge so much for his services".

"I don't want to put you out of pocket so to speak. You do remember that Jedi don't use money except in special circumstances".

"I remember" Palpatine said with his warm and near flirtatious smile enhancing the feeling of care that permeated his words. "I do get the bill after all, or the Senate does, for everything they need. You forget however that House Palpatine is wealthy in its own right and I can easily afford any expense he might charge. Think of the training as my own meagre efforts to both help someone I care for and the war effort itself".

"Thank you" She responded gratefully. "What is the man's name?"

"I warn you he is quite abrupt but... useful. I would also assume that you can learn a lot more than just hiding your aura from him".

"I might need it too if the war to come proves to be difficult" she said quite shrewdly. After a moment she asked again "What is the name of the man?"

"Sidious….the man's name is Sidious. I'll send him a message and I'm sure he'll contact you shortly".

"Good" she said even as Sidious smiled behind the bland politician's mask that he often wore.

Two Weeks Ago

Thanks to her friendship with Palpatine and his introduction to the mysterious Sidious she managed not only to confound the Jedi that might have questioned her story but, also give them the impression that she was such a paragon of the Jedi way that they had commended her commitment to the Orders ideals.

Oh, she thought, the ironies of life.

They had wanted to send her directly back to the front with Grandmaster Yoda being especially proud of how strong and sure Kara Durvan had grown in the force but, she had refused citing the fact that she needed time to fully digest what she had learned.

In truth, the only things that she wished to discover were more of what Sidious had to teach her.

She had learnt the 'true' history of the Sith and how there had been two groups to diverge from The Brotherhood of Darkness at the end of that horrible time.

The first, she was told, was founded by the visionary known as Darth Bane.

All he wanted to do was reorder the cult of Force Users back to the ancient origins found in the Legions of Lettow. He had wanted to simply learn more about the Force free from both of the restrictions of the Jedi and the all-consuming hatred of The Brotherhood.

He tried to learn from the bitter lessons of both the then recent past and the Legions of Lettow (who had also been crushed by the Jedi) and had decided that any direct action enforcing this belief would be more than foolhardy.

As such, he and his apprentice had retreated to the shadows to learn in peace.

Though she had initially baulked at learning anything about the Sith she found herself intrigued nonetheless.

Not much at all was known to the Jedi about the ancient Legions of Lettow and, if there was one thing, one weakness, that most Jedi (especially Masters) suffered from it was the desire to learn more about everything to do with the Force.

She had also discovered that the second group of unnamed Sith had carried on the hatred that they were born from against the Jedi and (surprisingly enough) the Banite Sith.

They had even gone so far as to remove all traces of themselves from standard Galactic Records. It was only the Banite Sith that still remembered their diseased cousins and knew enough to be wary of them, even occasionally fight them, as time went on.

Even so, according to the Sith records, they had infiltrated them and the Jedi on at least one occasion for each Order.

According to her enlightening teacher the infamous (at least in certain circles) Darth Gravid had been one of them and the damage that they had done to the relatively peaceful Banite Order was beyond counting.

Even now, centuries later, they were still recovering.

They had also been responsible for both the Progressive Movement among the Jedi _and_ the Clone Wars erupting in the first place as Dooku was one of theirs as well... at least until he failed them.

As hard as this tale had been for her to believe at first, not to mention how fanciful it seemed, she found herself entranced by Sidious's almost hypnotic voice (and the documents he provided as proof of his claims) and, as he weaved a glorious story involving secret battles against one another on forgotten world's and desolate places, she believed him

It was more than that though as, quite frankly, she was hooked.

There were two other things that made her believe the 'true' story of the Sith. The first was when he had finally lowered his hood and she realised that her longtime friend Palpatine and her teacher were one and the same person.

The second was when he had drawn a connection from the last non-Banite Sith (a man called Darth Vectivus) that they had been able to successfully track and the first Harry Potter.

It all began to slot into place for her then especially when she saw recordings of the Potter progenitor being trained ruthlessly, even brutally, in the ways of the Dark Side.

They, the entire family, had orchestrated the destabilization of the Republic even as they carved out an Empire of their own even if they didn't call it that. They had masterfully weathered all possible opposition _and_ managed to set them against each other.

It made sense to her why Palpatine had become Supreme Chancellor then, especially after he admitted to being the sole remaining Banite Sith, as he was simply trying to repair the damage done to the Republic and heal it's broken state in time to face the new threat.

Of course, given his unique situation, he couldn't have gone to the Jedi Council with any of this and neither could she without giving him away. At this point however she was unsure whether she would want to even if she could be assured that he would be believed.

"Chancellor?" She asked when his historic tale was done. "I do have a couple of questions?"

"Ask away" he said smiling at her as they were, once again, eating dinner in his private apartment. He knew that the key to a good lie was to weave a small amount of truth amongst a larger lie and draw logical conclusions between the two until all was accepted as fact.

This he did _very well_.

"Why have the Potter Family" here she spat the hated family name, much to Palpatine's internal delight "been able to do so much damage to everyone?"

"At first" he replied with just the right amount of a lilting sorrow in his voice. "We did not understand what they were doing. Honestly, we weren't even aware that they had survived for a very long time and by the time that we realised they were still around that they were already acting against us".

"In the history that you have taught me, you said that the Potters were responsible for the Progressives but, the Jedi Archives state that William Potter was a staunch Traditionalist. How can he have been both for and against them?"

"William Potter" Palpatine said slowly "was a lightning rod for change by _design_. How better to control your agenda from afar than by becoming its opposition? Don't forget that it was also William Potter's murder of the 'dark' Jedi Hakk that transformed the Progressive Movement into Jedi policy".

"I guess I can see that" she replied somewhat dubiously.

"I am almost prepared to deal with the Potters and their Commonwealth but, I _do_ have a few problems".

At the mention of dealing with her hated enemy, Kara's eyes snapped to his face with an almost unnerving and laser-like focus. The fire in her eyes told anyone that would care to look that she would do anything she could to stop them.

"What problems? How will you deal with them?" Kara's questions came out quickly as if in a fever inspired rush.

"I have managed" he began with a certain amount of pride leaking into his voice "to use one of their tricks against them. I have been able, as Sidious, to get the command codes for the C.I.S droids main manufacturing plants. I have also, fictitiously of course, set Sidious up as one of their longtime secret backers and newest ally now that Dooku is gone"

"That's wonderful" Kara exclaimed. "We could end this war tomorrow".

"I know" said Palpatine with an artful amount of regret colouring his face. " _But_ if we shut them down then we would be facing a far more numerous enemy to the north of us. Instead, I would prefer to….take control of them".

"The Droid Army?" She questioned and, at his reluctant nod, she bit back her instinctive denial to think it through. Though she wasn't particularly a fan of the idea she eventually nodded to both him and herself. "That _is_ tactically sound….but it would mean stretching out the war until you could get to a place to use those codes".

"That brings me neatly to my larger problem. As you know both the Senate and the Republic are riddled with corruption. The Jedi would not listen to me if I came to them with this particular problem and would only be taken advantage of by the pro-Commonwealth sympathisers that are infested throughout both bodies. I see no other option but to stay here…. I _must_ stay here…." He then laughed sourly "I'm in the unenviable position of being able to end this war but being unable to act".

"Is there anything that I can do?" Kara asked even as he subtly pushed images of the 'Republic's' victory at her and she seemed to latch onto the idea of the pair of them standing side by side as the Commonwealth as well as the Potters burned around them. "I really would do anything to help".

"There is one thing…. you could become my Apprentice and act in my stead" he said.

Even as the first words were coming out of his mouth he saw how she instinctively began to baulk at the idea as, even though she didn't particularly believe in them anymore, the beliefs of the Order were well ingrained in her psyche having been raised by Jedi in the Temple.

"Of course" he added, "if you don't want to do that I fully understand but it would help bring down the Potters as well as save both future Jedi and the Republic at the same time".

"I…" Images of standing over the broken forms of the thrice-cursed parties flew through her mind and she quickly got out of a chair and then fell to her knees. "For the good of all I am ready to serve…. my Master" she answered passionately.

Palpatine privately amused on how wonderful a deep and abiding hatred could be when it came to controlling what someone would do.

"Then rise…. Darth Victorious ….my Apprentice and force our will upon the Galaxy" Palpatine intoned and he couldn't help but allow a certain amount of smugness out in his tone at these words. "We will start with Operation Knightfall very soon".

Such was the hold that the man had over her that it never occurred to her to question why she had to become his apprentice to achieve victory against both the Separatists as well as the Commonwealth.

-LAFA-

Present Day

"It will happen today" Luna said.

Before she had spoken Harry had been holding her, sitting in the countryside of New Atlantis, and watching the sunrise over the city that was created as much by her as it was by him.

The lights below the hill on which they sat began to turn on as the people below started to wake and prepare for the day and, as the couple watched, they both felt ascent of immense care and pride that what they had begun had allowed freedom of various kinds for so many.

It was simple moments like this that made all the struggle that they both had been through all the more worthwhile even though they did not get to do this that often.

"I would ask if you were sure" began Harry even as his wife gave him a mildly harsh look that was only just softened by her slight smile "but it is you".

"We must be prepared".

"And the Jedi?" Harry couldn't help but ask.

"Will adapt or slowly perish without us even if we succeed" was her frank reply.

"Can't we save them?"

"No. Everything has its time and even the British Empire failed in the end" Luna said softly and with a wistful sadness in her voice.

"I know. I was around during that... sort of" he replied thinking of his periods of long 'sleep' and momentary bouts of wakefulness.

"If we try to save the Order with everything that we have now it's all for nothing as any lessons it does learn will be as forgotten or misremembered as Korriban, the Exile or Revan. That's not to say that we can't try and help them just that we can't do it with our full forces and we might even be able to do so with minimal risk of bloodshed… comparatively speaking".

Harry looked sharply at his wife as he began to detect what was left unsaid by her. It was a thing that they rarely spoke off and, if he was completely honest with himself, one that scared Harry half to death.

"It's _that_ time as well then" he began shrewdly. "Isn't it?"

"No one" she responded while looking deeply into Harry's concerned eyes with her own beautiful silver blue ones "is immortal…. not truly... though we are close enough".

.

"But now?" Harry half asked and half begged "With all of this going on?"

Harry's arms spread out like some great god of old encapsulating all of the people that lived on their world. it was almost like he was trying to gather them all into his arms and protect them from anything that could happen to them in the future.

"Every utopia becomes a wasteland. With our lifespan we are in the annoying position of being able to see it happen if we wish. It won't matter if the Commonwealth lasts for over ten thousand years …it will fall one day. I don't want to be here to see that even if I am _only_ functionally immortal".

"And if any part of our plan goes wrong?" Harry asked.

"Then I prove, once and for all, that we are simply very hard to kill and not immortal at all" was her response.

Luna's entire being radiated her sadness at that idea and her eyes, so unique and expressive, glistened with unshed tears as she tenderly stroked her husband's face.

"Then the Plan better not go wrong because I intend to be with you for centuries yet at least. I'll call Anakin and get him to come here as soon as he can" Harry grumbled as he slowly separated from her and stood, the mood broken, though he did still hold her hand.

"And I will use our sources to tip off the Jedi" she replied. "Oh and Harry?" She called even as he began to move off. He turned back and slowly studied her face as if he had never seen it before or never would again.

"Yes, my love?" He responded even as his brain began to turn to the tasks at hand.

"Prepare the surprises... we will need them" this time her voice was well and truly grim.

"At once my dear" Harry said with a flourish and a forced smile.

-LAFA-

"You will begin in fifteen minutes, my Apprentice" Sidious said wanting to savour the moment of his Grand Plan's triumph. "Be ready to initiate Operation Knightfall".

"Yes, my Master" said the former Jedi turned Darth Victorious even as the woman turned and began to walk slowly towards the Jedi Temple and tapping her comlink to signal the 501st.

As she was about to leave he signalled her once again and, with all the iron authority that she had come to expect from the man who had been her friend and the man who was now both her lover and Master, spoke.

"When you are done you _must_ proceed to Mustafar and end this war so that we can begin to actively fight the next one".

His plan ran into a small snag almost as soon as he had finished communicating with her however as his network of spies reported that four Jedi Masters, led by the famous Master Windu, were heading to his office even now.

He doubted that they were coming simply to have a cup of tea and chat with him.

When they arrived he was already prepared and, as a precaution, had already ordered a three-hour blackout of all long-distance communication. He had also retrieved his lightsaber from the statue near his desk where it had sat and waited for many years just for this day to arrive.

They really had no idea, he thought darkly, who they were dealing with.

-LAFA-

Mace Windu clamped down on his emotions and centred himself, drawing on the peaceful essence of the Light Side of the Force for comfort, as he exited the Chancellors private lift and was thankful for the resolute presence of the Jedi Masters that had come with him.

If what his source said was true (and though a quiet and mysterious one they had never been wrong before) then he was about to enter the battle of his life. He had never imagined, in the age of peace that he had been born into before the war, that he would be fighting as a general let alone entering the lair of a very powerful Sith Lord.

"Master Jedi" Palpatine began, as the man slowly rose from a relaxed position behind his desk, but as he moved Windu could almost see the predator hidden beneath the benign exterior. "How can I assist you today?"

"Chancellor" Windu responded giving a slight nod of his head to the man and in a very formal tone of voice. "You are under arrest".

From the brief look that crossed Palpatine's face (before the man's mask slipped firmly back into place), any doubts that Mace had about his informant ended with a soundless crash.

"On whose authority?" Palpatine asked and, knowing that the game was up, he allowed his true feelings for the Jedi to drip from his voice like a corrosive venom.

"On the authority of the Jedi High Council and the Senate you _claim_ to serve" Windu replied.

Windu, to his credit, seemed completely unruffled by the hatred that the man was almost literally pouring into the Force.

As one the Jedi activated their lightsabers and moved forward slowly and, even though he was sure he knew the answer, form dictated what he said next. "Will you come quietly?"

"I" said Palpatine, with a sickly sweet smile that reminded all in the room of a grinning corpse, "think not".

And with that Palpatine's own lightsaber activated and the Chancellor screamed his rage as he flew at them.

The ancient dance of Jedi versus Sith had begun in earnest once again.

-LAFA-

One of the best-kept secrets of the Commonwealth were their portals.

They were created as a pale and more limited imitation of the Veil of Death that had sent Harry so far in moments, though their creation had not been easy nor had it been quick.

Though imperfect facsimiles of that ancient and dangerous device and it's compatriot on Dantooine they were different and the few people that knew about them called them Gateways.

Less than one thousand people, from concept and construction to use, knew of their existence.

They were designed specifically not to travel through time, Harry was wary enough for that to be hard encoded in them from the very first, and like the gates they were based on they were paired devices.

Each gate was also powered either by the ambient magic of the world on which they sat or a series of magical batteries. They allowed, simply put, instantaneous travel between the two points.

The paired nature resulted in the creation of the so-called Nexus Room on Spero. The magic in the air managed to easily support the hundreds of numbered gates that were in this room and there were even a series of gates to move around the ever-expanding building itself.

Due to range concerns this wasn't the only Nexus Room, but it was by far the largest, with the next nearest one in size only housing five Gateways.

There was at least one Gateway in every single Chapterhouse they ever placed.

Each Nexus room had a Gateway that connected to Spero and this allowed travel over tremendous distances within minutes. They hadn't been used yet as, the minute they were, the knowledge of them would be disseminated whether the Royal Council wanted it to or not.

Even Harry, without checking the records, was unsure of how many Gateways actually existed.

With Coruscant being both so strategically important and close to Spero its Chapterhouse had a direct Gateway. This was the Gateway that they were going to use now.

As Harry prepared to give the order to do exactly that, with his wife and three hundred of his best Knights behind him, he was aware that (thanks to encoded transmissions) preprogrammed droids were already attaching and activating the magical batteries on the other side.

If anyone were watching them they might be confused as it appeared that all of these people were staring at an empty archway made of unremarkable stone (the runes were carefully hidden as there was nothing wrong with being extra careful).

That wouldn't have been the oddest thing however as each of them was dressed to look like, at least at first glance, a run of the mill Jedi as it was important for many reasons that they did not overtly advertise that the Commonwealth had anything to do with what was about to happen.

For those in the know, those truly in power or those that would find out it gave the Commonwealth the one thing that all political entities wished to have….plausible deniability.

At the appropriate time, and with a wave of his ringed hand, the archway shimmered into life and a soft white glow permeated the room coming from the centre of the arch which had been so empty moments before.

"Let's move out" Harry growled as he was still uncomfortable with what he knew was going to happen and, as one, they began to move both with Harry and Luna applying glamours to their rather recognisable faces as they did so.

-LAFA-

Kara Durvan, Darth Victorious, strode down the ceremonial walkway with five hundred of the 501st behind her (and fifty more concealed at the secret back entrance with explosives and orders to bury it) and she mentally checked her resolve.

She not only felt firm in it but actually revelled in it.

The old Orders were dead, she understood that now, as thanks to the Potters and the ever-growing threat of the Commonwealth (not to mention the vision of a better future) there was no other choice than what was to come.

It simply had to happen this way. the Banite Sith would no longer be bound by the rule of two but rather many would be held under the benevolent rule of Palpatine and, through her role as his chosen apprentice, her.

The older Jedi have to die, she thought, they are simply too hidebound and too corrupted to be saved. Once that might have made me sad but, as _they_ have already fallen for the Commonwealth lies they are simply too weak to be of use in the New Order.

She could almost see it now. A brand new order would rise from those younglings and a few useful Jedi willing to see the truth and it would be called The Inquisitorius.

Led by her in name of the new (though it wasn't official yet) Emperor.

Lost in her thoughts she was startled when she saw a line of adult Jedi several ranks deep blocking her path. Seeing their numbers she signalled for reinforcements while briefly wondering how they had managed to keep that many Jedi back from the Frontline but, she had no time to dwell on that as she began to bark orders for the battle that was about to begin.

-LAFA-

Harry and Luna's forces had arrived, in staggered groups, twenty minutes before the newly christened Darth Victorious but they have been anything but idle in the meantime.

As soon as they had arrived (and while Luna was meditating on the near future) Harry had contacted the seventeen free droids that they had placed, over time, throughout the Temple.

Given the innocuous nature of the droids, the skeleton crew of Jedi due to the war and the late hour, it was simple enough for the first twelve to begin carefully downloading any information that the Commonwealth didn't have (mostly knowledge on and instructional hologram meant for select Masters on Vaapad as well as a few other things from the Great Holocron).

The final five were split between placing a timed worm into the Jedi system and a message into the transmitter, just in case, that would both change the signal and encrypt it beyond any easy means of stopping or changing it.

Then they sent a simple command that would activate the evacuation alarms when the time was right.

Almost as soon as that was done (the orders were quite complex after all) Luna had returned to let him know that the enemy was coming.

"I'll stand ready, right here with you, and we'll ferry the Jedi out" he said hopefully as he did not wish to leave her side.

"You can't" she answered while raising an eyebrow at Harry's indignant snort. "There are about to be sniper and heavy artillery nests on the surrounding rooftops".

"Someone else can do that" he argued.

"Not as well... or as quietly" she pointed out "and that is what we need right now". She looked at him full in the face and briefly caressed his cheek " I know you don't want to do this. The truth is I don't want to do it either but we knew, almost from the very beginning, that this was a possibility".

"Fine" he grumbled half-heartedly "but only because I have to... and because you asked".

"Remember" she pointed out "what happens now is about the children, about saving them, not about me".

"I know" he answered quietly even as he pulled out his Sorosubb S-5 blaster and use that along with the Force to vault to the nearest rooftop. Then he heard his wife's voice as if it was right next to his ear.

"When you are done grab a speeder and head to the balcony of the Chancellors office. You will be needed".

Then like the Bounty Hunter/Assassin he once was he waited and internally grumbled about well-meaning but demanding wives even as he attached a silencer to his weapon.

When the fight came it was almost the complete definition of anti-climactic.

Three separate groups of six Clone Troopers moved up to adjacent rooftops. They were armed with sniper rifles, heavy rocket launches and in one case a portable light turret as well as their standard equipment respectively.

The snipers were currently the biggest threat as the turret would take a few seconds to set up and the rocket launchers, as the last group, was still getting into position.

Tapping the small computer on the side of his bracer and making a few selections he then began to aim it towards the snipers.

With the sound of six soft puffs of compressed air, each clone trooper was violently introduced to basilisk venom and, before they could even begin to react, they were already dying.

Using the spike on his weapon and the Force he once again moved both to get himself into position for the next group and, just in case anyone was looking, to make himself harder to hit.

Having used almost half of the darts that he had Harry instead used his blaster and, guiding the bolts with the Force, swiftly downed the next group. He took comfort in the fact that this groups rockets would not be used against the defenceless Temple.

His combat knife fell from its secret compartment and into his hand as he swung into the midst of the last group of clones.

Every single piece of armour ever made had weak points and Harry, having seen the clones many times as well as having many reports from spies on the construction of their protection, used that fact to his full advantage.

With a whisper almost as soon as he landed the combat knife went through one clones throat even as his blaster shot another one through the right eye.

Even as the startled men began to react he kicked one into another, threw his knife into a third and snapped the neck of a final one.

Thanks to his Force-enhanced limbs the two that had been kicked didn't even have a chance to rise as he brought his blaster to bare and killed both before they could try and stand.

Hesitating for a moment, once his grisly work was complete, he heard the sound of blaster fire being reflected off of lightsabers and had to fight the urge to go and help his wife.

He remembered her words though and knew she wouldn't have asked him to do something without there being a point to it. With his reluctance clear in every step he took he found the nearest speeder and quickly stole it.

He knew that the quicker he did whatever he was supposed to do the quicker he could return to his wife.

-LAFA-

Luna, using Form IV and still glamoured, was darting back and forth between enemy lines almost like a fast and angry session of waterfalls. She spent much of her time in the air using anything, from people to buildings, to spring from and land with devastating viciousness (not to mention almost ruthless effectiveness).

She was far from the only Ataru Master on the battlefield but she was, by far, the most effective.

That wasn't to say that each other 'Jedi' in the line didn't do a fair to a good job of balancing their own forms inherent strengths and minimising weaknesses while managing to form a cohesive unit.

Though some of theirs had become injured they had prepared well and it was the advancing clones that died by the scores even as more and more reinforcements began to arrive.

The only sound, other than those of battle and the dying, was that of the Jedi evacuation alarm. It was harsh, strong and shattered the relative stillness of the night.

Some of the disguised Knights, using a portable platform that they had carried through in pieces, were at the hidden back entrance and quickly ferrying the Jedi as well as the young Padawans to a nearby assembly in the backstreets of Coruscant.

The Clone Troopers that were sent there had been easily dispatched as they hadn't expected any sort of resistance until they had set up their explosives.

Then Darth Victorious, her eyes glowing a baleful yellow, entered the fray at the main entrance in earnest as she had grown tired of watching the mostly one-sided fight.

-LAFA-

This, thought Darth Victorious, cannot go on. They will _not_ stop me from claiming my victory. These people cannot be Jedi….they fight too well as a unit.

She had a point.

Historically Jedi had rarely worked in teams larger than two or, in the case of the Clone Wars, as generals leading many other non-Force Sensitive groups and frankly it showed in how well they worked together.

Added to that she had spent many years working (or as she now thought...wasted) and learning under the corrupt system that was the Senate and the Republic. She knew most of the Jedi, at least by sight, and although it wasn't like she knew every single one of them three hundred was a very large group especially after the war had taken its toll.

She recognised no one.

That alone would tell her that these people could not be Jedi as, like most discerning groups, theirs was a rather insular society. More than that it took literal _decades_ to become a Jedi Knight and the chances that she would have missed seeing three hundred of their number gaining that rank was very low.

Nil actually.

This realisation took less than a blink of an eye for her and led directly to understanding exactly who these people were. When that happened she had a predictable reaction.

Her anger surged and hot bile almost literally filled her mouth.

She searched the faces for one of her main targets, namely anyone with the surname Potter, and when she couldn't find them that fact only served to increase her rage.

She then turned that feeling and her full attention to the biggest threat to her plans that she could find.

That appeared to be a fake Jedi Knight with light green eyes and dark brown hair.

She (and from this close she could tell that her enemy was a she) was cutting through Victorious's army with such ease that, more often than not, they didn't even have time to target the woman before they died from her sweeping but precise blows.

The pale green light of the woman's lightsaber mocked her and highlighted the fact that both the Jedi and the Commonwealth were obstacles to the plan of bringing order by destroying the corrupting influence of the Potters.

It also didn't help the fact that the false Jedi, all of them, were using their Force powers on the walkway to great effect easily sending what should have been a uniform and cohesive attack into disarray.

Many, for example, were pushed to their death off the side of what was effectively a very large bridge.

As Darth Victorious moved forward a blast of lightning left the hand that wasn't holding her own lightsaber and, as she stared into her own blades green depths, she dearly wished that it was blood red.

A reflection of her current anger and newfound power.

The two women soon clashed (with her opponent almost contemptuously redirecting her Force attack onto the 501st with her own weapon) and the devastation around them soon became so great that there was almost a foot of dead space filled only with bodies.

Her muscles settled into the routines that had been drilled into her since childhood and she began to use every advanced form that she had learned from both her new Master and the Jedi to end this threat to future peace and stability.

-LAFA-

Sidious was, frankly, enjoying himself.

It felt very good to finally let his mask fall free and truly, openly, embrace who and what he was.

He had not killed anyone with his lightsaber since before he killed his own Master and assumed the mantle of Dark Lord of the Sith.

Almost all of the Jedi had been nearly deliciously arrogant in their attacks and he had revelled in their screams as they paid the price for that by falling under his blade. Their dying gasps were music to his ears and the smell of burned flesh was a heady aphrodisiac that helped strengthen his connection to the Force.

All he managed to finish with ease except Master Windu.

And he, thought Sidious as they duelled, is being annoyingly stubborn about clinging to his pathetic life.

Take right now for example. Sidious executed a complicated manoeuvre that should have led, in six quick moves, to beheading Windu and yet the man (and his irritatingly purple lightsaber) managed to parry the final fateful blow, if only at the last moment.

The only upside was that the mounting frustration fed his powers even more.

-LAFA-

Luna was glad that she was fighting with her own body under a glamour rather than with polyjuice because the potion might have thrown off her centre of balance.

Though she was more skilled than her enemy the newly named Darth Victorious was attacking with a ferociousness that was difficult to match and, at this point, the woman did not give a single thought to the lives she extinguished in her pursuit of Luna...even her own troops.

Luna, on the other hand, spent as much time defending other Jedi as she did herself and like a pinball rocketed herself time and again between her own people and Darth Victorious. She had no such compunction when it came to the Clone Troopers however, often using the Force to simply pull them into the enraged woman's path or as human shields to protect herself when needed.

Victorious used her Clone Troopers in a similar, but different, manner. Almost every time that Luna felt she was getting the upper hand in the fight she would, more often than not, find a Trooper pushed close to her and be forced to defend an attack from them rather than press her advantage.

Needless to say, as she had foreseen, all of this made it very difficult for Luna to land a killing blow. Both of them, by this point, were not only tiring but had light burns and gashes all across their bodies.

Knowing what had to come next Luna began chanting under her breath and even as she moved, blocked and parried her magical core was being syphoned away for the spell.

When she felt it complete it left her mouth like a warm golden breeze and dissipated in the air less than a second after being formed. The satisfaction that she felt at that moment was odd to describe as she knew that her part in being an instrument of fate was done to the best of her ability.

The future that she longed for was one step closer to reality.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her remaining Knights moving towards her and, aside from Darth Victorious, no one but the dead clones were at her feet. She could also feel Harry out there somewhere and sent him all the love that she could.

Bottom line the Jedi were now safe and she knew what had to happen next.

She pressed a hidden button on her belt and began the first of a series of blows with only one possible conclusion.

Soon enough she felt the searing pain in her chest that she expected even as Darth Victorious entire jawbone, a piece of her tongue and part of her throat were taken by Luna's blade.

She looked down and saw what she expected to see. The Darksiders blade was hilt deep in her, piercing both her lung and part of her heart. The blade was pulled violently from her body even as both women began to fall.

"Harry" she gasped as the nearest Silver Knight rushed to catch their falling princess in her arms even as the Jedi Temple, now clear of everyone, exploded into pieces with a resounding crash and a veritable tidal wave of dust.

-LAFA-

Windu knew better than most Jedi about the Darkside and its pull given the fact that his Vaapad form _required_ the user to use their enemies own darkness against them without giving in to their own.

They essentially made themselves part of a never ending circuit that took the enemies negative power, added their own darkness, and turned it back on them. It was also a very difficult line to walk as the temptation to give in to the seething mass of power only increased the longer it was used.

All of this meant that, of all the Jedi in the Republic, he knew that he couldn't win this as he truly grasped the depths into which Palpatine had bathed in death, destruction and the ways of the Sith.

But if he couldn't defeat his foe he would do his damn best to take the man with him as his own oath to the Jedi and the Republic required no less.

-LAFA-

Sidious attacked again and again. He was a swirling mass of power and hatred that was dismantling everything that Windu could bring to bear and throw all of that, Sidious was _amused_.

He was, after all, playing with his food.

With an internal sigh of regret Sidious blew the irritating Jedi off his feet as, although this was deeply entertaining to the man, he had other things that he had to do today.

Then he summoned every ounce of feeling that he had built up over his long life against the Jedi and launched a deep purple spread of lightning.

This wasn't just lightning though (and even that had always been one of his favourite powers) but more like an unending tidal wave of energy.

It danced and crackled over Mace's currently prone form and, if it wasn't for the Jedi screams, almost anyone might have found it beautifully mesmerizing.

Of course, Sidious did so anyway.

-LAFA-

Mace Windu was in agony.

He felt like every single cell in his body was on fire and, if it wasn't for the fact that he could both see the lightning as well as feel his body twitching like a rag doll, he might have assumed that he was.

Then again lucidity was often difficult through your own pain and screams.

There was only thing that Mace had going for him at that moment and that, oddly enough, was the memory of his defeat at the hands of the Silver Prince.

He had learned the lesson of arrogance in combat well and, in his reinforced robes and limbs, (not to mention electrically resistant as they were often fighting droids with E.M.P grenades) he had a surprise for the Chancellor of the Republic.

It was agonizing and painfully slow even moving his hand to the secret compartment on his mechanical leg but if nothing else, Jedi were known for their impressive willpower and there was a reason Windu was already a legend among them.

He drew out a small sphere and, with a flick of his wrist that was as much a spasm as it was a lob, it landed miraculously at Sidious's feet.

The man noticed, of course, as the bright red colouring of a small plasma grenade was very hard to miss but in such confined quarters all he could really do was turn away and try and use the Force to shield himself from the blast.

When the explosion came (with a bright flash of light and resounding boom) neither man faired all that well as the strength of it blew out the large expensive windows.

Windu had several pieces of shrapnel peppered throughout his body and one of his mechanical legs was gone with only a smoking ruin of flesh and metal where it once was.

Palpatine, despite his best efforts, had not fared much better. Though he had all of his limbs his right one was effectively useless and hanging from his side like so much dead weight and his face was covered in blood.

The reason for this blood was that a long jagged piece of metal had scored across the Sith Lord's face and completely ruined his right eye.

Still, thought Windu through his own pain, that only seems to irritate the man more.

That was his last coherent thought as Sidious gestured and he felt himself lifted off the ground and thrown violently through the now open window.

-LAFA-

You know, Harry thought to himself, when you go out for a nighttime joyride admittedly fast but stolen speeder you don't expect it to be literally raining Jedi. Ahh, the amusements of life.

Swerving said stolen speeder towards the falling Jedi Master Windu was child's play although catching the beaten and barely conscious man did take a fair bit of effort on his part.

Driving one-handed was fairly simple and it was needed as he did need his spare hand to delve into the pocket of his belt. That he then quickly force-fed a half resisting, half-conscious Mace was more difficult but he managed.

Even as he turned the speeder towards the Commonwealth Chapterhouse the wounds on the man began to close forcing out of his body many shards of glass. Harry had no illusions that he had helped the man but he would need much more advanced healing before he was anywhere close to well.

Even the man's stump of a leg improved, though only marginally, and although there were rituals and spells that could restore the limb but, not only was the man never likely to see them, the price for them (at least a fully functioning restoration) was also generally quite steep.

As Windu began to wake up, if groggily, Harry let the glamour on his face collapse and began to weave even faster through Coruscant traffic while keeping a wary eye out for any approaching Security Forces or Clone Troopers.

"Wha.." Mace began.

"You're welcome Jedi" said Harry quietly.

"Are you the…" Mace tried to ask still not seeing clearly yet.

"Silver Prince yes. You have no idea how much I dislike that title sometimes".

"You chose it" the injured Jedi answered as his mind finally began to clear.

"Actually I didn't… it was more of a compromise".

"I'm sure" stated Windu with the disbelief clear in his tone.

"Actually" said Harry icily as he moved into land next to the Chapterhouse "it was. I _think_ that if I were you I would be more trusting of the man who saved my life and then stopped me bleeding to death".

"I'm sorry" said Windu while wondering to himself exactly how Harry had done that. "I'm clearly a bit overwrought"

"Strong words" replied Harry while snorting, torn between the urge to yell at the man for not apologising and for saying it in the first place, "for a Jedi".

As Harry jumped out to help the one-legged Jedi inside he staggered and almost fell.

He knew what it was, of course, as he and Luna had developed the spell based on the Fidelius Charm and had tested it thoroughly years before.

The spell, such as it was, removed specific sensitive information from a targets (and anyone connected to the target) mind and simply left a trigger phrase in the mind of the caster to release the bound knowledge.

It was often used by high ranking organic members of the Commonwealth Spy Network on members that ran the very real possibility of being captured.

It was a very useful system but not without its flaws.

Harry, for example, couldn't tell what exactly had been hidden without the code phrase spoken by Luna that would release his memories but, by utilising Occlumency, he was able to quickly determine that there were several holes in his mind regarding something very important that he and Luna had spoken of.

After a moment all he was able to retrieve was a feeling of deep worry.

Panicking slightly he quickly searched for the remnants of the Padawan Bond that they once shared and, though it had been many many years since he had been her teacher, he should have felt something from it. He desperately searched for some echo, some after image or hint as to where she was or what had happened.

Instead, he found nothing.

Which means, thought Harry, that she's either actively blocking me or…. all her clones are somehow dead…. and so is she.

At that moment the last of the Knights sent to the Temple arrived at the Chapterhouse and they were carrying a body. It was one that he knew very well and, at first, his mind refused to recognise who exactly was in front of him.

Her body. Luna's body.

"What now?" Windu asked bringing Harry forcibly back to the here and now.

"Go through the Gateway for now…. ask your questions later" snapped Harry even as he took the body of his wife from the firm arms of the softly weeping Knight and feeling as if his world had just ended.

Sensing, perhaps a little belatedly, that he had pushed the Silver Prince too far Mace Windu didn't resist as three Knights that guarded the Chapterhouse manhandled him through the Gateway.

In the end, Harry was the last one through, staring balefully back towards the Supreme Chancellor's office, until he left quietly, saying absolutely nothing. As he did so he activated the last explosives that the Commonwealth had brought turning the Chapterhouse to rubble a mere second after he left.

It firmly severed the connection to Spero and Harry knew that, in many ways, there was no going back for anyone after everything that had happened here tonight.

-LAFA-

Palpatine ignored the pain as he approached the ruins of his desk and managed, somehow, to activate a prearranged signal.

Far across the Republic and in all of its battlefields his image and three words spread that changed the course of history forever.

"Activate order 66".

A Chancellors Guard rushed into the room and, ignoring the wreckage, spoke.

"My lord…. your Apprentice" the man stuttered fearfully of the Chancellor's bloody visage.

"Take me to her" he demanded, sensing something gravely amiss, in a harsh and grave tone. "Now!"

Almost all of the battered, beleaguered and war-weary Jedi died at the hands of their Clone Troopers. Almost nine thousand of the roughly ten thousand recorded Jedi (padawans and younglings included) died in the following days although history would record three notable exceptions.

Jedi Master Yoda killed those that were trying to end his life before they could kill him and both Anakin and Obi-Wan Kenobi survived as well although the reason that latter survived was more because of the former's help than anything else.

-LAFA-

Ironically, thought Obi-Wan, if we were still fighting on the Northern Front I might not be in this mess so, in a sense, the Commonwealth is helping to kill me.

The fact that he was surrounded by Clone Troopers and with his back against a half-collapsed wall with many of his Jedi brothers and sisters dead around him illustrated his point clearly.

Frankly, it was only the Commonwealths intervention in the Northern Front that had allowed enough free Clone Troopers to track him and his group of fleeing Jedi after the first failed attempt and here, in this desolate and war-torn place, he was about to die.

He closed his eyes and centred himself in the Light Side of the Force that he had served so faithfully and for so long while he waited for his end to come. In what he assumed to be the final moments of his life he only hoped that he had done enough, that he had helped more than he had hurt, and that it had all mattered.

Only, his death did not come.

Instead, he heard the sounds of heavy turbolasers and he opened his eyes to see the sprawled bodies of most of the clones that had threatened him.

He also saw a small all-black scout ship heading his way and, before he could decide whether to fight or flee, it turned in the air and he saw that the cargo ramp was open and his brother in all but blood was standing on it.

"Obi-wan" shouted Anakin while throwing out a high tensile steel cable "let's go".

He grabbed the line as if his life depended on it (which it did) even as Anakin began to pull him in and the pilot, whoever that was, began to move the ship away even as more Clone Troopers arrived and began firing.

"How did you survive?" Obi-wan couldn't help but ask as soon as the cargo ramp was closed and he was protected from fire by the hull.

"It helps to have three Silver Knights as semi-permanent bodyguards" stated Anakin dryly.

"Where are we headed?" Obi-wan pressed.

"Spero. The city of New Atlantis to be exact" Anakin answered. "The other survivors are there".

"I see" said Obi-wan quietly.

"I doubt it" was Anakin's cryptic reply.

The Republic was clearly no longer safe for the Jedi that had served it for so long especially as not all those that were targeted were killed. The strongest, the very few that had managed to survive for a time, had been captured instead.

The Galaxy had changed almost beyond all recognition in the last few days and everyone would have to deal with that.


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter 36: The First and Last Days of the Empire

 _A/N: due to the fact that I'm now a father and my wife/beta and I have a 1 month old these last two chapters have only been edited with Grammarly. You have been warned._

19-18 BBY

3634-3635 ATC

Year One of the Imperial Calendar (1IC)

Holonet Broadcast

 _Welcome to the new and improved Imperial News Service. After the betrayal of the Jedi and the resulting fallout we, along with many others, rejoice in this new era of peace. The safety and security that is provided by both Emperor Palpatine and the Imperial Senate is a welcome change from the corruption and waste of the former Republic._

 _That is not to say that we have recovered from everything that has happened recently as we have had many shocks to our people. The betrayal of the Jedi almost overshadowed the fact that we managed to win the war against the C.I.S.._

 _Still we have risen to the challenge and have created a truly caring and responsible government in the well oiled and efficient Empire that we have become._

 _The good news does not end there. Though the Emperor leads the charge against the follies of old not all of the Jedi betrayed us. Former Jedi Kara Durvan, once a well respected member of that corrupt Order, found the courage to help end the High Council's nefarious plot and even led twenty five like minded Jedi to serve the Empire against those traitors._

 _With the Emperor's blessing they have formed a new Order that_ will _always put the needs of the Empire first and they are called the Inquisitoris._

 _She herself is not only a lauded hero of the glorious New Order but also leads these brave Force Adepts and has been named Special Advisor to the Emperor himself despite suffering life threatening wounds when she bravely resisted her former Order's betrayal._

 _Reports of the Silver Commonwealth's involvement in the plot are, at this time, still rumour and are being investigated at the time of this broadcast as is the supposed murder of Princess Luna Potter by fleeing Jedi factions._

 _More news on that as it develops and, coming later today, an interview with the head of the Emperor's press core._

Spero

David, former Lord and now Silver Prince of the Commonwealth, would have been amused by the latest string of propaganda coming out of the capital and into Empire controlled space under other circumstances especially as their sheep like populous ate it up.

He wasn't concerned by the actual content as he was sure that there were already brighter minds than his already preparing a suitable response that would, no doubt, be broadcast soon by hacking the very same systems that Palpatine legitimately used.

It was hardly the first salvo in a war of words and impressions that had begun before Operation Knightfall but was simply more overt now that the Empire had 'won' against the Commonwealth.

It was however the first that directly cast doubts about the virtue and insinuated the 'evils' of the Commonwealth. The Empire had no idea what they had awoken however as the Commonwealth was more war ready than ever before.

As he sat in the Council room (with the circlet of his father and symbol of his own rule on his head) he knew that he didn't want this, at least not this way and not for a very long time past this one if ever, and it was only the warm hand of his lover that had kept him steady over the last few days.

Bless, he thought, Ahsoka Tano.

He looked up and smiled into the face of the woman he loved and couldn't help but admire, even now, how beautiful she looked even in the full armour of a Knight of the Silver. Though the age difference between them was great the fact that they were devoted to each other was clear.

He could still remember when she had turned up as a lost and broken former Padawan who, at the advice of her former master and friend, had thrown herself into her new training with a gusto that caused her to soak up the new knowledge like a sponge.

She had wanted to learn everything that the Silver Knights could teach her (and the history of the Commonwealth itself) and it was in one of her many pursuits of that knowledge that they had met.

He hadn't wanted to pursue her at first as, after all, she was new to this way of life and significantly younger than he was but he had tried to be helpful and be an easy going sounding board for her.

It had actually been she that had made the move on him after they had spent some time together and it was only when she had kissed him that he realised exactly how much she had wormed her way into his heart,

The two had fallen in love but, he was not as recognizable as his parents and it was only after they had gotten together that he had admitted he was _the_ Lord David. Though he had never lied to her he had been specifically vague and it had taken some fast talking on his part to smooth things over.

She had _not_ been pleased with his deception.

Still, he thought while casting his mind back, I do need her now more than ever _especially_ after what happened with my father.

-LAFA-

One Week Ago

It was the quiet sound of the opening door that alerted Harry to the fact that someone had entered his private study and, thanks to his Force senses, he could tell that it was his son. The waves of concern and grief that echoed off the younger man made him more than distinctive enough to his father.

That didn't stop him packing his nondescript bag while leaning over his desk. His eyes flickered to his circlet, the symbol of his office, that also rested there.

"You missed the funeral" stated David and the neutrality of that statement cut Harry far deeper than any anger could have done. The care, compassion and understanding that echoed in the voice of his son almost made Harry flinch.

His son took in the study and, from the far away look in his eyes, Harry could see that he was becoming half lost in memories of brighter times and of the family that laughed here. It was almost as if they could both see the twin shadows of the past, a boy and a girl, begging their mother for piggybacks and their father for a story.

"Yes" Harry's tone was equally as painful for his only son. A voice that, to him, had always been filled with love now seemed full of a tired and gaping emptiness while his once expressive eyes were now still like a deep pond.

Once so emotional, now they gave away nothing.

"What happened?" David asked and Harry knew that he wasn't talking about missing the funeral but something far more serious.

"An adaptive virus. It was deliberately introduced to the systems that regulated the temperature on all of her clone pods….they essentially cooked to death".

"Do we have any idea who did it?" David pressed.

"They were careful enough that I have no idea who did it and neither does anyone else" Harry began and David's eyebrows rose at the idea of his father _and_ uncle Nic being stumped. "That does not mean that we don't _both_ know who was ultimately responsible for it".

"You can't just go off running after him" argued David and neither man was unsure of the 'he' who they were both talking about. "The Commonwealth needs you".

"The Commonwealth needed both me and Luna but _that_ time has passed. Now they need a kind, compassionate leader that also has steel in their soul….more important than that they need a _mortal_ ruler".

"Why?" David asked while being confused, if only slightly, by the way this conversation was heading.

"In all of my very long life I have noticed only two things relevant to this discussion. The first is that as you age spontaneity is much harder to accomplish and to adapt to. Everything changes faster and that ability to adapt, to be spontaneous, ironically becomes essential".

"And the second?"

"That the old adage is not always true. Great age does not automatically bring great wisdom".

Harry swiftly swung the now full backpack onto one shoulder. He only had that, the belt that was fast becoming Commonwealth standard issue for the military (including an armour upgrade much like Harry's circlet) as well as his lightsaber and his distinctive blaster hanging from holsters attached to the belt for protection.

"If all goes well" Harry said into the long contemplative silence that his words had caused "I'll see you again at the end of all of this. You are the Silver Prince now...look after both the Commonwealth and, more importantly,your sister".

"What about Chime? Where is she?" David asked only now noticing the phoenixes absence.

"I have no idea" Harry said quietly into the still room. "She left the day your mother died and I haven't seen her since".

And that became the first day of David Potters reign as the Silver Prince. He was not lifted to the throne by rapturous applause or ceremony but instead, by his father's quiet and somehow sad footsteps fading into the distance.

-LAFA-

"The Imperial Representatives are here" a servant droid announced from the doorway and it's dispassionate synthetic cadence jolted David back to the present even as Ashoka sat down quietly next to him. Though she would remain silent, for an added air of mystery against the Imperials, her eyes looked at him and were filled with both sorrow and understanding.

"Send them in" replied David softly.

In marched four human men (it seemed the Empire was already showing xenophobic tendencies) as if they owned the place. Each wore a black uniform that was both crisp and utterly spotless. It spoke to the newness of the Empire and almost screamed at it's militaristic intentions.

"Lord David" said the leading man "I thought I had a meeting with the Silver Prince?"

Though the unnamed man's voice was polite his eyes were intensely mocking. His entire body language was deeply dismissive of the new Silver Prince, his paramour and basically everything that the Commonwealth stood for.

"And indeed you are" responded David icily. "My father abdicated last week and, at that time, I became the Silver Prince".

"Well then" said the still unnamed man pompously clearly trying to lead the conversation. "I, Ambassador Demarko, am here to state the Emperor's wishes in regards to the Commonwealth. These" he said pointing at the men behind him "are my assistants".

"And those wishes are?" David asked using a tone of curiosity to hide the anger that was barely evident (and completely missed by the Ambassador) in his voice.

"To facilitate the resumption and expansion of trade between our two nations" Demarko replied smoothly and with a great amount of condescension.

Then the man tried to show a face of artful regret though, to both David and Ashoka, it was easy to see the falseness of it...so easy that they didn't need their senses to know how untrue it was. "Sadly, with your father not giving the Empire any notice that he would stop trade two weeks ago we will require some _modest_ form of compensation".

"Are you really that fucking stupid?" David asked, his own mask slipping away and revealing hs cold anger. His voice effectively poured cold water on the arrogant man's posturing which was exactly the point

"What do you mean?" Demarko bit out, barely managing to not bark at the man in his own home.

"What happened two weeks ago?" David asked, talking as if to a small slow child which caused the man to flush even as he began to formulate his answer.

"The Republic turned into the Empire" stated the man with a quick withering glance at Ashoka. "So?"

"So our agreement was with the Republic _not_ the Empire" David barked back and, having grown tired of the falseness in the man's behaviour (as well as his arrogance), injected the iron that his family was known for into his voice.

"But they are one and the same. By the Force the Empire was born from the Republic!" Demarko protested.

"Not according to every contract that we had with the Republic. Paragraph two hundred and seven, subsection seventy four and I quote 'If the government of either party undergoes a significant legal change they shall give their trading partner one months notice. This is to facilitate a review of all standing contracts. Failure to notify a party of such a change shall render any and all agreements null and void'".

"A mere technicality" Demarko spat.

"And _yet_ " replied David while smiling humorlessly "you were, no doubt, about to try the very same thing to get more blaster gas and perhaps even some credits as your 'compensation'"

"The fact remains that the Empire requires your goods" stated Demarko with the threat clear in his voice. "I am here to make sure that the Empire gets them".

"Why?" David asked, with a false note of innocence in his voice, and a piercing look on his face. "Is the Empire not at peace? What enemy could _your_ Empire need that much blaster gas for?"

"Hmm" replied David "I suppose that the fact that your army has grown with fresh Clone Troopers that were _apparently_ ready and waiting despite the fact they take ten years to mature would create quite a demand".

At the Ambassadors furious and shocked silence David internally chuckled. He knew that this 'Ambassador' was a vicious and cold hearted soldier that would happily smash a babies head against a wall if ordered and not, in any way, a diplomat.

He also knew that they were fully aware that his father was no longer leading the Commonwealth and this entire exercise was orchestrated by the Empire to try and control the Commonwealth while it went through a period of perceived weakness.

"No?" David continued "Well perhaps you can tell me why the droids of the C.I.S have not been disbanded but are instead slowly being reprogrammed and refurbished to serve the Empire? While you're at it you can also tell me why the factories are not closed down and why it has just started to arm its most effective units with experimental weapons that carry an anticoagulant in their blaster bolts and one that resists, stubbornly, every known healing method?"

"How do you know that?" Demarko almost screeched even as his assistants shifted nervously behind him.

"I am afraid that _I_ am not at liberty to say how at this time….I'm sure you understand" David answered smugly.

"The fact remains" Demarko said after a long moment to collect himself "that the Empire requires what you have".

"It may have escaped your notice" replied David with true acid in his voice "but you are not in the _Empire_ ".

"I would hope" Demarko said with the same acid in his voice and a clear stare at Ashoka "that the rumours that you are harbouring Jedi turn out to be false especially after what they have done to the Empire. If not our relationship _will_ sour dramatically".

"As opposed to the _special_ relationship that we have now?" David asked sarcastically though, to Demarko's credit, he didn't rise to the obvious jab.

"Rather than any special relationship I would say rather that it is a debt of honour that you owe us. It was after all the Inqusitoris led by Special Advisor Durvan that…" Demarko began smoothly only to be silenced by the clearly enraged face and raised voice of the Silver Prince.

"DO NOT MENTION THAT WOMAN'S NAME TO ME!" David thundered and his power both magical and that of the Force saturated the room with a ferocious intensity.

Even as it did he jumped up smoothly to his feet, his dominant hand resting on the hilt of his unlit lightsaber and several things happened almost all at once.

The 'Ambassador' and his assistance all reached towards hidden blasters that the Commonwealth Security Service knew they had (and that had been subtly deactivated before entering the room).

At the same time six Knights of the Silver that had remained hidden by the Force and four Magi hidden by their magic quickly subdued the men before they could find out exactly how useless their weapons had become.

Ambassador Demarko ended up, quite swiftly, on his knees and more than a little frightened.

Then again, having two lightsabers so close to your throat that they were causing light burns from the heat alone would do that to most people.

The assistants were not treated quite so well as they were ruthlessly (and brutally) knocked out. The crack of their breaking bones and loud thumps when they hit the floor underscored the Ambassadors precarious position even further.

"You are extremely lucky" said David in a quiet and deadly voice "that you are dealing with me at the moment and _not_ my father. If you had been foolish enough to say that to him you and your assistants would be trying to learn how to leave with your heads separated from your body".

"But…" the man began to stutter only to be quiet when one of the blades was pressed closer to his neck.

"Be silent" David commanded with all of the power of his station and his blood in those two words. "We are not the sheep that you normally shovel your own brand of shit to and we will not simply accept anything you say at face value. We _know_ what happened to the Silver Princess, _my mother_ , and unless you want a war you will go home and tell your superiors to turn the traitor Kara Durvan over to us with all haste".

"It will take some time" Demarko managed to gasp out albeit with great difficulty.

"There will be no talk of agreements, old or new, until _that_ is done. You are dismissed _Ambassador_ ". David's words were colder than Hoth even as he watched the panicked man being literally dragged out of the door along with his assistants.

"They will attack us almost as soon as that poor bastard returns...if not before" said Ashoka the minute they were alone. "His own assistants might even kill him on route to try and avoid the death the Emperor will give all of them when they return".

"Of course he is dead...one way or the other" replied David with no sympathy for any of them before turning his mind to more important matters. "The Emperor wants our resources and will never allow such a threat to his rule to exist, especially so close to his seat of power. The new weapons they are building alone tell us that".

"Yes. They may not know how they work but, thanks to our treatment of the Jedi at Geonosis, they have seen how effective our potions are and those weapons are clearly designed to neutralise that edge".

She paused a moment and then added "They also know that they are geographically larger than us and _believe_ that they have more troops than we do. Why wouldn't they attack us?"

Her question was, of course, rhetorical.

"It's a good thing that we are prepared then isn't it?" he answered while giving his girlfriend a quick kiss. "Fancy clearing our heads by trying out that new speeder that I got last week?"

"Another one?" She laughed as she took his hand. "You really are your father's son. Come on then...scare me half to death and give me enough thrills to last a lifetime".

"As my Lady commands...though that is generally what the backseat is for" she giggled and blushed. "Before we get to that though we need to call up Anakin. We need to stop or slow down the Empire's production of droids".

"Anakin? Not Qui-gon?" Ashoka asked.

"No" he replied as, though not as clearly as his father or especially his mother might have done, he sensed a gentle nudge from the Force. "It's Anakin that is needed".

He did smile though as he had made sure that the new speeder he had bought, unlike the last one, had a very large and very comfortable backseat.

He wouldn't be smiling later that week when he would be quietly informed by Nicolas that the virus that had destroyed his mother's clones had done the same to his father's

This time there would also be no confusion over who had done it as the sample that was used was delivered to his father in one of his last requests as sovereign before he abdicated.

His father had effectively made himself mortal.

-LAFA-

Coruscant

Harry would have smiled as his feet touched the concrete floor of The Republic's capital but, he couldn't bring himself to summon enough emotion to do that at this moment, weighed down as he was by the emptiness within him.

With his cowl pulled up, a runic glamour bracelet that changed his features and carrying a conjured piece of wood as a makeshift staff (not to mention the fake limp that justified its use) he was not only the definition of unremarkable but unrecognisable as Harry Potter.

He had finished the last leg of his roundabout trip with the stop before this one being Tatooine and with many others in between. If anyone had any inkling that Harry Potter was here not only would they have trouble tracking him now but, hopefully, they would be lost by the many changes to his journey.

All of which was bolstered by a masterful fake identity chip as well as completely submerging his Force signature into the background hum of the planet. With so many lives (each with their own spark of the Force no matter how miniscule) on the world it was very easy for his own power, properly attuned, to be lost in the ocean of other signatures.

His robe was a bland and muted green rather than the black and silver accented ones of the Silver Knights or the more famous dun ones of the average Jedi as both would obviously cause him problems right now.

And 'problems' in the Empire lead to death sentences.

That did not mean he was unarmed however as underneath his robe he had his prototype belt with the armour deployed but without its helmet and ready to be deployed at a moments notice.

The helmet was based upon the older design that he had once used as a Bounty Hunter and Assassin albeit with an up to date heads up display.

He also still had his bracer full of darts, ring, lightsaber and blaster hidden throughout his person and therefore he felt prepared for almost anything.

He nodded to himself and, with his mental checklist done, he knew it was time to get to work.

-LAFA-

Two Weeks Later

Kass Jeth was a former Jedi Knight that, like the rest of the Inquisitoris bar Darth Victorious, was captured by the Clone Troopers that he had trusted his life to for years when they had stormed the Temple and changed his life forever.

His conversion to the Dark Side of the Force had been quick, desperate and painful. Since then though he hadn't regretted his decision in the slightest as he found he really enjoyed his new lifestyle.

He was a human (just as the Empire preferred) male that was often overlooked as a Jedi Knight until the war. He had been rather good at combat though and, like many Jedi that were, he had felt the subtle disapproval of the High Council.

He had resented that and the general populouses low opinion of Jedi in general over the last few centuries as well as especially (with notable exceptions) during the Clone Wars had added to that and made it fester.

In short, he had been an easy convert and the respect that he enjoyed now he was free of the Jedi was like a fine wine for him.

People moved aside for him when he walked down the street and his dark brown hair was always styled at the best of places as well as in the latest fashions for free. Far from being a pseudo monk (as he once was as a Jedi) he now only needed to twitch a finger and a bed partner, willing or not, would come to him.

He even ate at the best restaurants, got the finest clothes and the best weaponry that the Empire could offer and again paid nothing.

As much as he enjoyed his new life it was not however, a complete bed of roses for the man.

Many of his brethren had been killed by someone or several someones and, of the twenty five Inquisitors that had originally formed the new Order, only sixteen remained.

As they hunted an apparently dire threat, with his own personal opinion being that it was an escaped Jedi Master that was hunting them, he was paranoid enough to take one of the new experimental blasters that were being produced for himself.

Just in case it was one of his own kind that was hunting everyone else he kept it very secret and hoped that, if it came to it, the secrecy would save his life.

There was also the fact that, apart from anything else, it would hardly be a surprise if that was the case as none of them from the Emperor down to the lowliest adept trusted one another in their own individual struggles for power.

The only exception to that was Darth Victorious and that he had realised early on but, no matter how powerful she was or how wise in other aspects (and she was much more so than him on both counts), he was her superior in one important area.

He knew and accepted what he was rather than allowing delusions of love (which she could neither admit to nor the Emperor himself shared) to blind him not only to who and what he had become but also, the new realities of the Empire.

Still, that distrust had led to what he was doing today. Instead of doing _meaningful_ work or having his fun he was heading towards the newly built Inquisitorial Compound.

It was not, as one might have thought, in the old Jedi Temple as that was currently a trap for foolish Jedi and would later (as long as the Emperor's plans didn't change) become the new Imperial Palace.

Instead then they had been given this newly constructed compound that was built over the ruins of the recently destroyed Commonwealth Chapterhouse.

After he entered his authorisation code on the small panel at the door and inside the small, squat and frankly ugly building he couldn't help but marvel at the power of whatever explosives had destroyed the building. Not even the foundations had been left and, more than that, he couldn't help but think about all the knowledge that the Empire could have used that was lost.

When he entered the main room he lounged on one of the many sofas that were in the almost jarringly opulent main meeting area. These sofas were arranged around a very large and sophisticated communications blister that helped them service the Empires needs.

Aside from that there were only two other rooms.

There was an armoury on the left-hand side and a training room/torture chamber on the right with the first being secured with many air gapped redundancies and the second being soundproofed as he knew from personal experience that the screams of their victims, apart from anything else, could put a large dampener on dinner.

Though some of the others, he thought, believed the noises improved dinner…. _barbarians_.

He didn't have long to relax though as nine other Inquisitors entered and sat around the communicator in a rough circle as the machine hummed to life and gave a burst of bright blue colour that formed an image that they all knew very well.

"My lord" all of the Inquisitors said both in the near reverence and in unison as the Emperor's face coalesced out of motes of light.

As had become the norm these days the man's image was more than partially obscured by the long black robe and cowl that he favoured. It also neatly covered the wreck that the man's right eye had become.

"I have good news" the leader of the Empire replied in his distinctive tone. All subterfuge was gone from his voice now as he sounded less like the benign Senator that he'd pretended to be for so long and now more like the apex predator steeped in death that he actually was. "We now know who is hunting you but, the cost of this information was the death of six of your fellows".

"Can I ask" said Kass "if Darth Victorious is aware of this?"

"She is not" Palpatine snapped obviously annoyed at both the question and the presumption behind it. "She is currently on Geonosis overseeing the reconstruction and the refurbishment of the droid factories and then will coordinate research teams seeking a new source of blaster gas".

As he spoke his one good eye glared at them from the little that they could see of his scarred face and they all knew that no more questions would be tolerated by the Sith lord. No one gave two seconds thought about the fate of those of their number that had already died as it was not in the nature of the Dark Side to dwell on the weak.

"This morning there was an explosion on the other side of Coruscant that killed your fellows and, though much information was lost in the resulting shower of shrapnel and damage, an image of Harry Potter _has_ been recovered. It is clear now that the former Silver Prince is hunting you".

"What would you have us do?" Another Inquisitor asked risking the Emperor's wrath.

"Find him and kill him before he kills you obviously" Palpatine spat before abruptly ending the conversation by cutting the transmission.

Kass Jeth was sure that he was not the only one in the room that suppress a shiver of fear. For once this was not caused by the Emperor himself but rather the idea of fighting another living legend like Harry Potter.

They had all heard about him as Jedi, in fact he had become required reading amongst many of their insular professions, and all knew that he not only killed Dooku but had stood toe to toe against Grandmaster Yoda himself.

Now that man wanted them all dead.

"How exactly will we find him?" The same female Inquisitor that had questioned Palpatine asked and, to his disgust, she was unable to keep the tremor of fear out of her voice.

Before anyone could answer her however there was a loud and grinding noise coupled with an alarm started to blare into the room.

"I think" stated Kass dryly "that won't be a problem".

-LAFA-

Harry smiled slightly as the little ball shaped hacking droid did the first of its two tasks by letting him into the Inquisitor Compound and then, almost effortlessly, entering the lockdown command after he had done so as well as scrambling the unlock code so that only Harry's new one would work.

Sadly all of that did set off alarms (the lockdown procedure did create a lot of noise after all) even as Harry began to move to the door in front of him.

Harry's robe fell to the floor and the runic glamour (that had been changed so often with random passers-by over the last few days) melted from his body like water as he slowly moved into an attacking position.

To that end the armour flowed out of his belt and cocooned him in the safety of steel and the Commonwealth's magic.

Before he could do anything else though two Inquisitors opened the door that he was facing and, later in the perfect vision that was hindsight, he was grateful that they could only come at him in that number as they were hampered by the door frame itself.

The close quarters did inhibit him somewhat as well but, thankfully, Darksiders of any sort were not often known to work together as a well oiled machine and therefore, though they did quite well as a unit, there were small openings.

Every single one of which Harry exploited as he began to cut them down as quickly as he could. He was fully aware, after all, that their greater numbers could eventually take him out. There was also the fact that there was one, not quite so stupid, Inquisitor that was furiously and desperately accessing the security console built into the large communicator.

Four of these traitorous former Jedi had already fallen when their not so stupid compatriot gave a cry, half of happiness and half of fear, as the internal defences came online.

Harry tensed knowing that he would be unable to do anything to stop the sixteen heavy turrets that were coming out of the walls and was not only hampered by the design of the building but also by the fact that he was fighting two competent Force users at once.

"Error" said a voice that was both mechanical and seemed to echo around the room even as two more Inquisitor's fell due to their momentary surprise at this unexpected development. Harry on the other hand smiled darkly as he knew that this ment his droid had completed its second task. "Activating the _appropriate_ protocols".

He had learned, long ago, that proper planning and reconnaissance counted for far more than foolishly charging in with your hot blood pumping and disengaging your brain even if you had the fury of the righteous powering your blows.

"You thought" said the voice, though now it was not the emotionless one of a computer, but rather, the prerecorded (and very angry) voice of the Emperor Palpatine, "to betray _me_? Now you will spend your final moments contemplating your utter arrogant _folly_ as I destroy you".

And with that the guns turned and, using advanced computer systems to individually identify each Inquisitor in the room, opened fire with their heavy reinforced batteries.

Meanwhile Harry's hacking droid kept him happily invisible to the guns sensors as they relentlessly began their bloody work.

-LAFA-

As Kass heard that prerecorded voice he knew that he was already dead.

Some might think that he would have regretted the choices that had led him to this point in his final moments and that he might even have felt _some_ guilt over his part in hunting and killing so many Jedi both with his inaction during Operation Knightfall and his actions afterwards.

Those people would have been wrong.

He regretted _nothing_ save the fact that he was going to die.

That being said he was understandably annoyed, as he enjoyed his new life and found the power that came with being one of the Emperor's favoured intoxicating, to be dying now as he had only just begun to receive the benefits and respect that he truly believed he had always deserved.

It was with that in mind (and a horrid snarl on his lips) that he flicked his experimental blaster to burst mode and quickly pulled the trigger three times. Nine shots, in three tight seperate groups, burst from the weapon before he was killed by the defences of the Compound.

-LAFA-

Harry was very good and did feel the bolts coming before they landed anywhere near him but two things stopped him escaping completely.

The first was that he was tired. Simply put he was very out of practice at doing so much himself for so long and he hadn't accounted for how draining that would be when combined with watching the building without sleep for a full three days

The second was that, no matter how skilled he was, the limiting nature of his position did leave him with very few options as he was still in the door frame. Given the limited distance between them Apparition also wasn't an option.

So he did the only thing that he could and gave himself over to the Force trusting it to provide him with the highest probability of survival.

His lightsaber hummed as it batted away the first set of blots that would have otherwise smashed into his head. The second set would have hit him in the shoulder if he hadn't half twisted his body and gone into a voluntary fall which allowed the shots to smash into the wall behind him

The third set did hit him despite his best attempts to contort his body out of their way. The first of which was both absorbed by and opened up his armour (the defensive strength of which was lessened by both the limited distance between them and the nature of the experimental weapon) and the second and third landed on vulnerable flesh.

The two shots easily overpowered the phoenix tears in his blood and left burning agony in their wake.

At length the sound of firing weapons stopped echoing around the room as the last of the Inquisitoris died even as they frantically tried (and failed) to survive. Harry stood among the carnage wincing as he felt his wound almost _gush_ blood onto his boots. Even as he reached for his emergency medical kit he managed to survey his surroundings.

Five of the sixteen heavy gun emplacements were destroyed by the panicked Inquisitors as they died and the entire area was wrecked with sofas, consoles and personal items scattered throughout the place burned, misplaced or utterly ruined.

As Harry found and then clumsily began to pour phoenix tears on his deep wound he cursed himself for a fool. He did this because, as his hand had searched through it contents, it had wondered over a pepper up potion that he could have used to stay alert and would have replaced (at least temporarily) his energy.

He honestly hadn't thought of it and that, as much as anything else, showed him how out of practice he was. After all training was one thing and real life experience was a completely different beast.

He hissed as the fluid hit his open wound and began its work.

Stepping over the bodies of the dead he hurriedly looked for an undamaged console and, as soon as he found one, his fingers fairly flew over the interface looking for the information that he wanted.

He was also very aware that emergency response teams and the Empire's police would soon be crawling over this place and he didn't want to be anywhere near here when they did finally arrive.

Thankfully for him his ball droid had returned to him, per its basic programming, and was available to help speed up the process. After all no lockdown was truly perfect and those droids were designed to be small and take advantage of any tiny gap or weak point.

Once he was finished he was surprised to find that the wound hadn't fully sealed, let alone healed, and could only tear a small portion of his robe and use it as a makeshift bandage.

Then he hobbled off slowly and painfully less than two minutes before the Empire's armed response team broke down the reinforced main door as the ball droid had helpfully opened the back.

-LAFA-

Palpatine growled at his advisors and, with his eyes flashing a bright orange, they scattered out of his private chambers like the cowards that he knew they were.

He really wanted to see the fear blossom in their terrified eyes as he killed a few (it would help his mood at least) but he managed to restrain his impulses...if only barely.

It had only been five days since the death of his Inqusitoris and he was short on people after all and that, frankly, was the least of his problems. He was also on edge because the Dark Side (which was so long his ally) was quiet and he had a nagging feeling that information he _needed_ was somehow being held from him.

He was _the_ Sith Lord, _the_ Master of the Dark Side, and nothing should be hidden from him.

One of his largest problems was that Darth Bane's great revenge was far from complete. Almost one thousand Jedi, including Padawan's and Younglings, had managed to escape and managed to do that in a way that he couldn't figure out or trace.

He knew that the Silver Knights, led by the late Princess Luna, had been there and both the Knights that were with her and the Jedi had left in the same inexplicable way. Beyond that he was once again stymied in learning any more.

It seemed that every monitoring device and camera had been disabled in and around the Temple area and those near the Chapterhouse. This all made him think of yet another growing problem that he was loathe to admit that he was potentially struggling with.

The possibility existed that there was a spy in his ranks. He needed to know how _anyone_ knew that Operation Knightfall was coming as something _had_ to have been leaked somewhere.

That was one of the many reasons he had sent his Apprentice away to Mustafar as the rather minor but important task of putting the droid factories to full use (and therefore replenishing the weakened and underpowered formerly Republic Army) _was_ important.

That being said if the spy, whoever that might be, worked or was in any way connected to his Apprentice then she (as their most powerful weapon) would be out of play. It would also allow the new droids to be more easily absorbed into the Empire's Army.

The need to do this might have been called overkill as the Clone Troopers currently numbered just over one and a half million Clones but, the new Imperial Intelligence Service had almost no information that was reliable about the foreign power.

The reasons that he had to deal with the Commonwealth now rather than later were many. They were too independant and disrespectful, they were either indirectly or directly involved in too many of his plans that had gone less than perfectly (and rumoured to be involved in far more).

Then, of course, was the overwhelming lack of blaster gas in the Empire and the fact that the Commonwealth was sitting on more than enough to serve his needs.

Without that, even with their own and the incoming C.I.S reserves, there was a severe shortage and coupling that with his personal desire to continue to clone more troopers using Spaarti Cloning methods that were far faster (though inferior) than previous methods made it far worse.

If nothing else however, when he had the Commonwealth under control, he would need his Clone Troopers (inferior or not) to maintain his rule over such a vast space and could not wait a decade or so for those Troopers to mature.

Given the Commonwealth's technical expertise and history of its founder he wouldn't trust droids anywhere near them. The Spaarti Cylinders would provide another one million clones within the year.

Not to mention the fact that he was trying to crack the knowledge of the lost and esoteric technique known as Essence Transfer and a viable supply of brand new clones would help.

Granted every original Clone Trooper would have three times the skill of the newest batches but he could always make more and the eventual on the job experience would significantly lessen the gap in skill between the two groups.

All of these factors not only unsettled the new Emperor but it also meant that the Empire had to move far faster than he would like. Though every action did have it's upsides as he was reasonably certain that his enemies were all banding together inside the Commonwealth's borders waiting for a single hammer blow to destroy them.

He only had confirmed reports of one well known enemy not doing well and it was his belief that Yoda, the former Jedi Grandmaster, was being sheltered by the wookies and therefore effectively neutered.

Still he couldn't help but want to tear that entire system apart to get to and torture that little rat for everything that he had ever represented. That pleasure could wait for a while though he did enjoy fantasising about it.

A sick grin adorned his face as he took a moment to imagine the Jedi Masters face as he screamed. Sidious would bring him to the point of death again and again.

That grin was wiped from his face as some of the disquiet in his mind was given shape by the Dark Side of the Force.

Though the most skillful members of the Commonwealth managed to elude the majority of his senses and any form of vision from inside the Commonwealth was especially taxing given the high amount of Force sensitives and the aura they produced (as well as, unbeknownst to him, runic protections and a cadre of Knights actively trying to block his sight).

An individual outside those protections that hadn't fully finished their training however was much easier.

When he realised what the vision was and who was in it he cursed aloud and quickly ordered a good portion of the Red Guard over to help his Apprentice. He didn't know if they would be there in time as much depended on his Durvan's skill and her ability to survive.

If she doesn't, he thought, she's not worthy to be my Apprentice anyway.

He was still worried though as it wasn't every day that Darth Victorious faced a war hero like Anakin Skywalker. The Man Without Fear was a former Jedi (now most likely a powerful Silver Knight) and was a formidable opponent so strong in the Force that Sidious was still bitter that he hadn't got to him first.

As well as possibly being the Chosen One.

Now it was too late for that and, one way or another, that danger had to be removed. He turned all of his attention, his surveillance devices and all of his formidable senses to the fight that was soon to happen far away.

He had to know as soon as possible as, depending on the way that the fight went he would need anything from a medic to a short list of new Apprentices to choose from and every second would count as the true fight with the Commonwealth was coming.

To that end he had already quickly ordered a full out attack on Commonwealth Space, aimed primarily at their capital, as the Empire really needed to force them on to the defensive and they would hopefully have a good stockpile of blaster shots or gas.

He also needed to break their firmly closed borders open for future attacks and the shock of the loss of Spero to the Empire would do that well enough.

All he had to do now was watch and wait.

-LAFA-

Lady Sarah was literally an ageless beauty. Unlike her brother, the Silver Prince, she had taken her parents path into functional immortality but, at that moment, she was also other things that counted for more.

Her office was functional and to the point that the the only decorations being models of the various aircraft that the Commonwealth had produced over the length of its existence framing the otherwise bare walls. The only other ornamentation were six large monitors (that looked like thin glass screens) fanned out at the edges of her desk.

In short, though expensive and tasteful, the office itself screamed the fact that before and above everything else (including being the daughter of the first Silver Prince) her first love was and always would be aviation. She was a pilot and (like her father at times) a thrillseeker by nature.

Her eyes, as green as her fathers, scanned the reports of the latest battles that had happened between the Commonwealth and the Empire.

Only a day after her brother expelled the 'Ambassadors' of the Empire war had erupted along their borders and it was clear that they not only wanted war but thought that they were more than prepared for it.

They had launched three fleets attacking at Serenno, Aldis and Korriban (the first and last not so much soft targets full of people but rather two strategic rallying points) and were confident of their victory...at first.

With the exception of Korriban the enemy fleets had been heavily damaged or destroyed outright and were forced to withdraw far back into Imperial space. Even their one victory was barely that as it cost them over seventy percent of their forces to take the otherwise dead world.

The Commonwealth's losses (apart from Korriban) were, thanks to good planning and vigilance, minor.

Then they went on the offensive and the eight fleets that they dispatched consisted largely of about thirty _Centurion_ class Battlecruisers as well as their support craft each. They blazed across the Empire's territory, cutting and burning as they went.

When they hit military targets, which was the thrust of the first part of the campaign, they offered no quarter. They killed each and every military unit, organisation and outpost that they could find as they travelled on their bloody path.

Builders and medical support appeared on those worlds soon afterwards as they began the long process of absorbing the frightened populous into the Commonwealth. They issued the obligatory tattoos, brought back a free press, and built hospitals as a matter of priority.

Coruscant was currently being left untouched.

Hundreds of individual words had fallen or were besieged in the past few weeks and, despite the occasional loss, the Empire had pulled its forces back (largely to better protected worlds and high value targets) to rally and regroup.

Though Sarah was aware of all of this she did not see this personally as she was in command of both the ground based Home Guard and the Silver Arrows.

The _Silver Spear_ class had recently replaced all small fighters other than the latest versions of the _Starbursts_ and, like most Commonwealth technology, was both an offshoot of ancient (but often superior to modern equivalents) designs and an amalgamation of the best parts of earlier models that they had produced.

Thanks to the battery technology that the Commonwealth had discovered there was no longer a need to seperate the fighters by who was using them. The good training of their pilots coupled with their superior technology helped turn the tide in more than a few otherwise close battles

Her elfin face and it's delicate features (all of which she had inherited from her mother) snapped to focus on a particular screen as the proximity alarms began to sound and quickly activated her communicator even as she absorbed the information as soon as it came in.

"An Empire fleet, damaged by our space stations, is entering the system" she reported to her brother and his face, much more of an amalgamation of both of their parents than hers, became intent as it appeared on a corresponding screen and he crisply answered.

"How many?" The Silver Prince asked.

"The sensors report fifteen ships approaching Spero from outside the gravity well of the system and in various states of damage and repair".

"Get the Silver Arrows in the air. At my signal be ready to break off and head towards Cadi".

"The gas giant?" Sarah asked, first with puzzlement and then concern. "You can't mean….surely the Sleepers will do?"

"You have your orders commander" David replied after shaking his head.

"Yes my Prince" she responded automatically and was, within moments, outside her office as well as leading her pilots to their ships. She also had no doubt that her brother was organising both the Home Guard (as Commander-in-Chief) and his own defensive measures against the approaching fleet.

-LAFA-

On Mustafar Silver Knight Anakin Skywalker watched from a distance as the former Jedi Master Durvan, now Darth Victorious, was slowly preparing to leave the planet.

He knew that, perfectionist that she was, she was taking her time to get everything right for her _beloved_ Emperor and was grateful that she was unaware that the reinforcements of Red Guards that had been somehow ordered to her position had been neutralised on route by the nearest Commonwealth fleet.

Though how, he mused, anyone knew they might be needed baffles me especially as I only know through hidden noise pulses hidden in the background static of Interstellar communication.

He didn't want her to have any help because though he was powerful he was honestly not certain of hers. He was also currently unaware of the intricacies of the Commonwealth droid spy network.

Then again, though he was loathe to admit it, while he was technically in the same power class as both Harry Potter and Palpatine having the potential did not mean that in reality he actually matched them.

Especially given Harry's age and the depths of depravity to which Palpatine had sunk.

He smiled as he knew that, when she eventually decided to, she would find that she wouldn't be able to leave this Force forsaken planet.

While Durvan had been busy issuing orders and increasing the production of droids to serve the Emperor's needs (which required the building of much more advanced machinery on the planet to keep up with the demand) he had been busy too.

He had planted, by way of reprogramming a few cleaning droids, several E.M.P devices on board her ship and they would soon turn her ship into nothing more than a nice sculpture.

He was thankful for his Commonwealth education in that regard as,though he had always been mechanically gifted they really had fostered his instruction to heights that he doubted he could have ever reached alone even with Jedi assistance.

Placing E.M.P's by proxy, even specially hardened systems, was almost child's play by this point as he was aware of most systems weaknesses and this knowledge had only been bolstered by necessity of the war with the Empire.

His ship would be the only option for leaving this planet but, not being a foolish man, he had it well hidden over an hours walk away and given the volatile nature of the planet it would be very hard to find if you didn't know (at least roughly) where it was.

He quietly approached the main manufacturing building from the other side than the one that Darth Victorious was on. He was out of her eye line and relatively free to sabotage anything and everything that he could before finally confronting her.

And face her he would. She had betrayed everything that she had ever stood for and for the most contemptible of reasons….her own lust for power, control and _need_ to be right no matter the cost to anyone else.

She had murdered the closest thing to a family she ever knew for it. Brothers, sisters, nieces, nephews, favourite aunts and uncles and tried to kill _children_ ….no one was spared her anger and lust.

She had also killed one of the kindest and beautiful soul's that Anakin had ever met and left a hole in anyone that knew her that would never be filled. The wound might scab over and he was sure that the majority of people would continue on with their lives.

But it would never heal.

She will pay, he thought even as he moved to begin his work, for all of the death and destruction...for uncle Harry and poor Aunt Luna. She. Will. Pay.

-LAFA-

Admiral Benok felt a deep satisfaction fill him as he stood on his bridge and saw, far in the distance, the Jewel of the Commonwealth approaching.

All he could think of were the riches that would soon be his. He might even, once the ground troops had cleared the area, take his pleasure amongst the locals as he had heard that Lady Sarah in particular was a beauty.

He was looking forward to that almost as much as everything else he might get combined as he loved it when his prizes resisted.

Most of the riches would go to the Empire of course but he knew that he would be well compensated and, if the rumors of her beauty were true, she would be _his_ especially if he was granted the request of becoming the new Imperial Governor of Spero once everything had been settled.

As far as he could see the planet only had one lonely _Centurion_ class Battlecruiser as a defense and it was woefully inadequate to protect the system from what was coming.

Though, in the privacy of his own mind, he couldn't fault them overmuch as he was certain that the Commonwealth had stretched itself quite thin assaulting the Empire and even one _Centurion_ class was worth roughly three imperial ships in any engagement.

Added to that they had clearly trusted the space stations that were placed strategically on the hyperspace route here and that his own fleet had destroyed.

To his fury they had managed to damage one of the largest fleets that the Empire or even the Republic had ever assembled. When he had begun this journey he had command of over forty ships and now, thanks to the Commonwealth's defences, he was down to seven fully functional ones with another eight almost completely ruined before battle could begin.

Perhaps then, he mused, it wasn't so stupid to have only one ship protecting the spiritual and ideological center of the Commonwealth as surrounding it in a fleet would only inspire a level of panic that was, at best, counter productive.

He had every reason to believe then that the battle would be quick….. vicious certainly but short nonetheless.

The fact that, only moments later, his helmsman reported that from their scans the enemy ship was staffed solely with older generation Commonwealth droids only reinforced that point.

-LAFA-

Harry groaned as he replaced the bandage on his side once again.

He was lightly sweating as he dropped and (with a muttered word) incinerated the rag. No medication he could find could heal the wound and no spell lasted for any length of time against it.

He had come to the quiet conclusion that he had relied too much over the centuries on the enhanced properties of his blood and Chime's companionship as, even if their were more advanced spells he could try, he knew no way of stopping the blood loss.

And Chime no longer responded to his call.

In short he was dying and, without his clones as the ultimate backup, this death would be all too final for him.

That was okay, he thought, as maybe there is a reason for death. Humans aren't supposed to live forever after all. When death does come for me I will go with a smile in the hope of seeing Luna again. Like my ancestors before me….I will greet him like an old friend.

I just, he concluded, have one more thing to do.

Rising out of the half dark alley that he had hidden himself in over night Harry Potter moved towards the Imperial Senate building and the attached offices/living quarters of _Emperor_ Palpatine.

He had his task and he had his weapons.

The ring that he had used for so long comforted him with its light weight as did the partially disassembled and hidden lightsaber in his belt (not the emergency one usually there but his own).

He did have to leave his blaster behind as it would have taken power, either in the form of magic or several mind tricks, to keep it as the eagle eyed security would never allow it under war time restrictions. He had the feeling that he would need as much power as he could spare.

Hood up and with a glamoured face for good measure he walked towards the main entrance and quickly found his way inside. He fortified himself for what was to come even as he had no expectation of survival.

At the same moment, several levels above, Palpatine was considering the fate of his Apprentice and the attack on Spero.

The final attacks were about to begin as all the pieces were in place.

From this either the final days of the Empire would begin or Palpatine would have his Dark Empire and more power than even he, in his corrupted state, could even imagine.

Where Anakin hoped for justice (with a shade of revenge), where Durvan hoped only for herself and her own goals and where Palpatine desired dominion Harry only hoped that, at the end, he could find some peace.

Regardless the cycle of death and destruction that had begun when the followers of each side of the Force had separated would end with what came next.

The fate of the Galaxy, often precarious and all too often affected by the ripples of actions more than the actions themselves would be decided soon. In the end there would either be an Empire of self destructive blood and death or something new (or very old depending on your philosophical perspective) entering the stage.

Far away and unheard by all, save one, a phoenix sang.


	37. Chapter 37

Chapter 37: The Final Chapter and Epilogue

19-18 BBY

3634-3635 ATC

1 IC

Spero System

Sarah was more than a little annoyed by her brothers orders (though she would follow them of course), not least because now she was a pilot without a ship as she had to perform a crash landing, but thankfully she did manage to do it by aiming for the small hidden platform inside Cadi's gas atmosphere.

With the quick and sure steps, her tailored combat boots echoed in the silence of the small room building that the landing pad was connected too. It was only the thin and small artificial shell of atmosphere that stopped the corrosive nature that the planet was made of from killing her outright as well as destroying the platform in its entirety.

"Are all of our fighters disengaged?" She asked as soon as her nimble fingers had activated the communications console in the almost spartan room.

"Yes, sister dear" came the exasperated voice of her brother. "They acquitted themselves very well, by the way, thanks to your training, as despite the odds they had very few losses".

"The ground batteries?" she couldn't help but press.

"They and the sky trenches are holding back the enemy though I do not know how much longer they will hold by themselves. The Sleepers are being prepared but, given their size, it will take time and you _must_ start now".

"Yes, my Prince" she replied formally. "If this doesn't work you can't worry about me. You _have_ to get the Sleepers out and save as many as you can. If that happens I will likely…."

"Be dead?" David said softly as he finished her sentence. She could almost see as well as feel the concern that he had for her swim around her body like a comforting blanket as well as the ever-present resolute drive to save their people. "I love you" he finished after a moment.

"I love you too….Mum and Dad would be proud of you...I know I am. Beginning Stage One of the _Wave_ ".

Sarah looked around the state of the art laboratory/weapons control room that she was in and wondered for a brief second if she really could activate the first (of two total) Superweapon that the Commonwealth had at its disposal.

Her face hardened as she remembered that these people that she was about to kill were there to rape, murder, torture and loot her home. She had the resolute nature of her father and a small amount of the almost endless empathy that so exemplified her mother.

That being said she had the images of what they would do at the forefront of her mind. When she had to weigh the cost of those that would die if she did nothing against those that she would have to kill there really wasn't a choice.

She didn't hesitate for a single second as she quickly activated Stage One.

From deep within the volatile gases of the planet several hundred small rune etched crystals (that were the work of centuries in secret) and the targeting panel of the computer bloomed into life even as she turned to it.

She took aim.

-LAFA-

The gases that made up Cadi were, in theory at least, perfect for turning into blaster bolts and highly corrosive but they hadn't been touched at all so that they could be used for the _Wave_.

These gases were not something that Admiral Benok was prepared for but, in his defence, a planet shooting the superheated and focused gases that it was both made up of and made the majority of most blaster shot had never been thought of before.

He also trusted in the very strong and military grade shields that his fleet was equipped with and that, as it turned out, to be a very large mistake.

Shields, no matter how powerful or uniquely designed, worked on a very simple principle. It all boiled down to the simple idea of forming a thin but high powered cover of energy as the sensors detected an incoming attack.

Where that failed Benok was in the simple fact that a torpedo or a blaster bolt was a highly concentrated burst of energy concentrated into a point that quickly faded once it either hit a shield or was redirected away.

They did this because, frankly, the power requirements of maintaining a shield would be too much for even the most advanced ship and the technology to create a sustained beam on a scale smaller than at least a moon-sized battery did not yet exist. It would also be exorbitantly expensive to both make and run.

The gases, however, were not focused in the same way even through the specially designed lenses.

This was important because, instead of focusing the energy into one short and explosive point, the gas was not so controlled and acted much more like some massive flamethrower of the corrosive gases.

Each of the small lenses worked independently, thanks to the advanced targeting computer, and collectively shot several hundred separate blasts at different targets.

The smaller craft that didn't have shields were quickly consumed by the acidic and volatile substance while most of those with shields were overwhelmed as they were assaulted on multiple points and they too fell into utter chaos and destruction.

Admiral Benok watched in horror, open-mouthed, as all but the best defended of his ships were consumed under the fury of his enemy attacks. He never felt more grateful, at that moment, that _his_ shields were the best and most advanced prototype that the Empire produced.

If he didn't do something soon though even his shields would soon fail and he would soon be dead.

"Reroute all power from every non-essential system. I don't care if we need to close down entire decks..the shields must hold" he commanded quickly. "Power weapons and prepare to bombard Cadi into oblivion".

For the first time since realising that he would have to command a mixed crew (he really should have stopped thinking of the droids as both the enemy and _clankers_ ) and losing the majority of the ships that he had been assigned he was glad of droids.

They _never_ panicked, never hesitated and weren't unnerved by the loss of so many allied ships. They only had the cold hard certainty of their programming at the cost of being rather rigid in their actions and being somewhat less effective than Clone Troopers in their fighting abilities.

Not that the Clone Troopers themselves reacted that poorly as they were, above and before all else, professionals and it was generally only the civilian auxiliaries that panicked. Still, he took comfort in the cold faces and their lack of reaction.

The droids moved to their tasks and but, before they could get into position or open fire, Cadi showed both its true colours and its latest surprise.

"By the Force" gasped Benok in horror.

The viewscreen showed that, far below on the planet, a large flattish crystal (that was at least fifteen times the size of any of the others that had been seen so far) was rising from the murky depths of the planet.

All of the others were now forming up around it in the rough shape of several telescopes (but in reverse) with the larger piece covering them at the top and aiming at the last remaining ship.

All thanks to Lady Sarah activating Stage 2.

-LAFA-

Every world that inhabited the Spero System activated their planetary shields. Using standard technology they were far too expensive to run for long but, like most things in the Commonwealth, the Magi had used magic to both power it and make it easier to run.

The one Commonwealth ship that had defended the planet was venting atmosphere and little more than a ruin. That being said the escape pods had all safely landed before the shield activated (as it was left on auto-targeting and fire until they failed) and they were ready for the second stage to begin.

Rather than the flamethrower like beams, the gas giant had launched before it now launched a thick ribbon-like wave. The superheated gases spread throughout the entire system like an unending tide only dissipated by the shields that it hit.

Everything that it hit, except the sun which seemed unaffected by the new fuel source that it impassively took, was destroyed by the devastating attack.

It was also the last thing that Admiral Benok ever saw.

As soon as the wave had finished the Silver Prince, knowing that the enemy was vanquished, nodded to the unit commanders around him and began to speak.

"Get the shields down as soon as we can and send someone to retrieve my sister straight away" he commanded. Even as a young private, pressed into the role of messenger, moved to obey, he continued to issue orders in a dry and clinical tone "Wake the _Sleepers_ ".

Everyone around him stopped what they were doing for a moment as _that_ order sunk in and then shuddered slightly. They found themselves almost pitying the remaining forces of the Empire.

Despite the many years of planning and popular thought neither Harry or Luna were true Seers (she was one at one point but, when Harry fixed her abilities, she merely had a very high aptitude with the Force's version having lost her magical version and she hadn't been one since that time) and the _Sleepers_ were originally a contingency against the idea that they may have missed something.

The fact that neither magic or the Force were perfect in passing along information was a given. That and, with all the losses that the Commonwealth had suffered as a whole and David had suffered personally, the Silver Prince was clearly _pissed_.

When Harry had first colonised Spero he had carved out an ever-expanding hangar and had started making things right from the first. He had not only made things to sell and support the infant economy but ships and droids as well though that was obviously in secret.

The majority of which he had deactivated and placed in the hangar below the city of New Atlantis and over time, to those in the know, they had become known as the _Sleepers_. Harry had continued the practice right up until he had abdicated in favour of his son.

Within minutes of his order ships, fully crewed by droids, of every design that the Commonwealth had produced began pouring into the system like a great swarm of angry and violent locusts.

The ships, once considered an emergency home guard and then later both a reserve for any ships and droids lost as well as an emergency source of troops, was now being used as the main thrust in the all-out offensive that was the Commonwealth's firm response to the attack.

A message was also sent out calling in the many favours and debts of honour that the Commonwealth had gathered throughout the centuries calling parts of all known space to war.

At the end of the Clone Wars, the newly christened Empire had a troop strength almost 1.8 million strong with more soldiers being produced daily from all of its corners whether through biological training, cloning or droid factory.

The Commonwealth had, on paper at least, two million soldiers readily available at the same time.

That they had not released the _Sleepers_ then had mostly been at Luna's urging to try and find a way to save as many innocent lives as possible. She was always more forgiving and kind-hearted than the rest of her family.

She had also felt that the mere knowledge that the _Sleepers_ existed (if it was more widely known) would have caused the Republic to view them as an immediate threat and would invite a devastating war to their very doorstep. The Empire itself did not care one way or the other as they merely wanted what the Commonwealth had.

Then again, no matter how benevolent the neighbour, an army of four million combat ready droids that had absorbed the latest in fighting algorithms from every single one that died throughout the years _would_ raise a few eyebrows.

And the Empire could never be described as benevolent though the Commonwealth was set to make them regret the attack orchestrated upon their very heart.

-LAFA-

Coruscant

Despite feeling more than a little woozy from blood loss (and being as white as a sheet) Harry smiled grimly as he carved the last rune in place.

To be that meticulous with his flagging strength was, perhaps, the most difficult thing that he had ever done but he persevered. In the end, his will was not to be denied and he managed to carve runes into key strategic places in both the Senate's underbelly and more than a few (as a contingency) near Palpatine's connected apartments.

Thankfully, given both their relative simplicity and the fact that Harry felt more than a bit of his own magically charged blood fall into the work, he didn't need any magic batteries to charge the work as he had none.

He slowly replaced the bindings on his wound, wincing as he did, as they had once again become too sodden with blood to be effective even as he meditated on the best way to do what he soon had to do.

He opened his eyes that were as hard as emeralds and as unforgiving.

He was prepared.

-LAFA-

Mustafar

They couldn't really be that foolish, thought Anakin, could they?

That particular idea came only when he had entered the complex only to find it deserted (or at least functionally so as there were a few guards) even as he, virtually unopposed, scanned through all construction and distribution commands for the complex.

What made it more than a little foolish and into the territory of outright stupidity was the fact that _this_ factory controlled six other slaved facilities throughout the entire sector and any changes here would be transmitted to them in mere minutes.

When he had swept the complex he had also found that the entire Separatist leadership was dead at the hands of a lightsaber. Knowing that Grievous was dead at the hands of Obi-wan and given the fact that Palpatine was too busy being Emperor as well as the fact his apprentice was here it wasn't hard to work out what had happened.

The traitors had, in turn, been betrayed and the Clone Wars were well and truly over. Just a few short years ago that would have been the cause of many weeks of celebration for Anakin but now, after everything that had happened, he merely raised an eyebrow and silently moved on when he found them.

Scanning through the communications records of the factory for a moment he learned that a cache of Imperial Troops was on their way to secure this factory and that, combined with the fact that the C.I.S was now a snake without a head meant that the passwords to the system had been commanded to reset.

From an outside source.

It appears, thought Anakin, that the Emperor planned this _very_ well.

He accessed the very latest of communications on a whim born of experience trying to prepare for the unexpected and found that Palpatine had planned far more than that. He followed the trail further back and he found, right in front of him on the screen, records of missives that proved Palpatine was funding and guiding the Separatists from the very beginning.

Oh, it was nothing _overt_ until very recently. In fact, aside from the last construction order, it was merely a disturbing and logical pattern of circumstantial evidence that was subtle until the pattern was laid out in front of you.

Then you would have to be blind not to notice.

For example, throughout the war, there were always enough droids to balance out the Republic forces. Always. There was never a shortage or an interruption that was not swiftly overcome and, more damning than that, the factories themselves did not but _could_ produce far more droids than they had during that time...with the notable exceptions regarding the times they engaged the Commonwealth.

Further in most battles were the droids would clearly win the found themselves (after heavy losses on both sides) being ordered inexplicably out of position or withdrawn for no good reason.

Except that their losses, thought Anakin, could be replaced and the Jedi had no such luxury.

Then there was the last construction order of around forty ships and the required droids to fully man them.

This was not such an unusual order in theory but, what was unusual, was the fact that the order had somehow been kept hidden from the very leadership that built the place until they were dead. It appeared that the information was in fact designed to only allow its security protections to fall _if_ that happened.

It was also buried quite effectively in a subdirectory dealing with the shipping of raw materials, mostly foodstuffs, to the desolate planet.

The final nail in the proverbial coffin was the fact that this new fleet was not programmed to respond to the C.I.S at all but, as of a few weeks ago and a software patch, that of the newly formed Empire instead.

Then the fleet left the records of the factory as it was delivered to an undisclosed planet somewhere near the Core.

If, thought Anakin, the Emperor had ordered a fleet to be built in secret to be used against his enemies no wonder these factories weren't showing their full capability until now.

It was easy, with the Emperor's favourite lapdog having killed the C.I.S. leadership to connect some disturbing dots about their target and he assumed that this was the fleet that had recently attacked Spero.

To be safe though he immediately used his encrypted Commonwealth comm codes, after planting a delayed virus in the factories system, to warn them of the creation of the fleet...just in case.

Then his face blanked as he shored up his spirit and began to move with a slow and deadly purpose.

Ready to face Darth Victorious.

-LAFA-

Darth Victorious growled deep in the back of her throat as, the minute that she had tried to turn on her ship's systems, they had failed. She knew that it was theoretically possible that such a failure was not the result of sabotage but the odds were infinitesimally low.

Besides which, she hadn't gotten (and managed to keep) her position as the Emperor's right hand by not seeing every possible threat to her that she could or by being careless.

She knew she would prepare for a trap regardless of the odds anyway even as she reached for her lightsaber. She hoped that it was a trap as whoever had set it must have a way off this world and she was already relishing taking that (and any other) information from them.

If it turned out not to be one then she knew that it would be a simple matter to call a ship to come and get her. A boring wait no doubt but still, a simple matter.

Soon, she thought as she gazed back at the giant manufacturing plant on Mustafar, all of the factories will be reactivated to serve the Empire. All it will take is the new software patch and some combat upgrades for the Commonwealth to tremble at the might of the Empire. Potter and his ill-begotten diseased progeny will burn slowly under the weight of _my_ power.

Her dark thoughts were interrupted quite effectively when she walked through the main complex doors. She came face to face with one of the people that she most wanted to kill (outside of the Potter's themselves) in the form of Anakin Skywalker.

She really had no choice but to attack.

-LAFA-

Palpatine has clearly been teaching her things, Anakin thought ruefully as he dodged a blast of lightning, and he may be a bastard of the highest order but he is also clearly a good instructor.

A small clinical part of his mind noted that she was using a hybrid form ( a mixture of Forms II, VI and VII with the barest hints of Form I to round it out) and though they tended to have their own unique weaknesses he could admit that her form, at present, was quite effective.

That being said because it was a hybrid form it was, by its very nature (when compared to the main ones), both very adaptable and yet somewhat diluted in its strengths.

He hoped to use his own mastery of Form V to power through her defences but, given her skill, it would be neither quick or easy….if it was even possible at all.

As their sabers began the age-old dance that had echoed through the Galaxy since the first sundering and the creation of the Sith Anakin was thankful. He was thankful for his training under both Harry and Luna as it was not only some of the happiest times of his childhood but, more importantly, gave him the balance needed for this contest.

"Tell me..." Dark Victorious asked almost conversationally except for the dark edge to her words. "Were you close to the little blonde whore?" Did she sneak into your room at night while her husband slept? Did she teach you everything you _needed_?"

A standard Jedi's training would have left them off balance and floundering at this verbal thrust. Although they would undoubtedly see the emotional attack for what it was the simple fact that it was seeing to provoke such strong emotions would leave them unsettled and vulnerable.

He was much better trained and much more in touch with his emotions than that. He merely smiled and deftly avoided falling into that simple, but effective, emotional distraction. From the time that he had first begun instruction on Spero he had slowly become, different title or not, a Silver Knight rather than a Jedi.

Now he was one in name as well but the fact remained that the teachings of the two orders, at their very core, were fundamentally different.

Where a Jedi would seek to banish emotion to better focus on the Force the Silver Knights instead sought to understand and balance them.

Every method of doing this was unique to the individual. Some balanced the Dark Side of the Force and its impulses with similar recollections based on love for example but, like Harry, Anakin was never very good at multitasking in combat in quite that way as it took too much of his time and attention.

Instead, for him, it was like he created a closed tube in his mind of good impressions and feelings (far too vague and unfocused to truly be called memories). He then used this to completely cover his darker side and feelings with one end of the tube attached to where they began and the other spread to the end of his limbs.

This crude but effective method allowed him to use emotions such as hatred, fear, disgust and anger while being insulated from their more negative effects. Even this rough form of balance had taken him years and was still an effort to maintain.

He suspected it would be for the rest of his days even if he did find a better way.

His blows gained more power and speed as she continued to try and unnerve him, no doubt sensing at least part of his anger and assuming that her technique was working, even as he was both perfectly clear-headed and analysing her fighting style.

As they moved through the factory complex, causing a lot of collateral damage as they did, Anakin had no problem summoning enough emotion to keep increasing the strength of his blows.

This woman had not only betrayed everything that she had once stood for but she had also killed the woman who was, in every way that mattered, his aunt. She was also one of the kindest and compassionate people that he had ever met.

Expelling his emotions in this fashion not only helped him fight but was also oddly cathartic as well.

-LAFA-

How, thought Kara, is this whelp still fighting?

Granted Skywalker was always known to have an impressive aptitude with the Force but, even with his almost mountainous strength in the Force, his fortitude and skill were almost inhuman to the woman.

She had known Jedi Masters that would have fallen to her skills or passed out in exhaustion by this point and be swiftly slaughtered for their trouble.

To her, it felt that every blow at her was a sledgehammer against her defences and she found herself having to slide the blows rather than outright block them. Her muscles groaned under the seemingly relentless assault and her palms felt like they were dripping with sweat.

She even found herself unable to use the Force to strike back as she needed every bit of her power to simply stay alive and, even though she felt her frustration rise, she found that she didn't have the half second needed to focus enough to use it anyway.

Then, with their faces almost touching while in a saber lock, she saw his expression change as if he had figured something out and then all hell broke loose.

With the next few swipes she was forced back against a wall and she felt panic as the steel settled against her back almost like a prison...or a coffin.

The next attack pushed her blade back so far that she almost lost her grip and it damaged nearby machinery with a hiss and the smell of burnt metal.

The following backslash scored through her clothes and bit deeply into her breasts as she screamed her fear, pain and hatred in her mechanical tones.

Her yellow eyes stared into his oddly impassive face even as he cut her lightsaber (and the hand holding it) in half.

Her breathing came through in a wheeze, which in and of itself was a testament to the damage that the Commonwealth had already done to her, and she said nothing as the looked at each other in an odd moment of stillness.

"You know" Anakin said "I thought I'd have more to say to you but.." he impaled his lightsaber through her chest as he spoke the last words she would ever hear "you're not worth it".

Her last sight was of him walking away from her, as if she was nothing and already beginning to be forgotten, and then the darkness descended and she knew no more.

-LAFA-

The minute that he had done it Harry realised that he had made a mistake.

With his face covered by the cowl of his robe, he knew that he drew more than a few curious stares and it hadn't seemed unreasonable, at the time, to use a light Force Trick on Palpatine's secretary to find out if he was still in his apartments.

Though this had worked and she had told him what he wanted to know he could also tell that she was trained, perhaps not in the Jedi or Sith way, but enough to both recognise what he was doing and resist.

This made a kind of twisted sense as there were ways to train someone's resistance without teaching them Force abilities or even them needing to be Force Sensitive at all. He knew he should have seen this coming especially given what her employer actually was

Her eyes had widened the minute she had the words compelled from her and, in his weakened state, he was not quite fast enough in knocking her out to stop her hitting the small and well-concealed alarm button on her desk.

Then again, with a knowledge that was bought through hard years of experience, he knew exactly how badly his body was failing and that it would only be a matter of hours now (if he was lucky) before he collapsed.

Unlike every other time, this had happened he knew that, after the unconsciousness and death that inevitably followed, he would not wake in a new body but whatever was next...whether it be the chaos of Darksiders or the loving arms of his wife.

He, therefore, ignored the alarms as in his current state he found them inconsequential.

He then headed for the simple corridor, on his unsteady feet, that was between him and his target. As he did so his lightsaber responded to his will and the pieces of it floated into (and assembled itself in) his waiting palm.

He opened the door only to come face to face with twenty red-robed guards. They were not only heavily armoured, with visors that completely covered their faces, and well trained but they were also armed with Force Pikes.

They were also jam-packed into the small space and ready, even eager it seemed, to kill him.

Harry grinned tiredly and his own saber lit his pale and sweaty face. He moved in with his lightsaber. The combined might of magic and the Force burst from him even with his first step.

-LAFA-

Palpatine heard their dying screams of course but, found himself remarkably calm as he stood behind his desk. He had no sympathy for weakness and he was of the simple opinion that if the guards couldn't stop the intruder then they didn't deserve to survive.

He had no other thoughts regarding their welfare as such compassion had been burned out of him (if he ever had any at all) years ago.

The first time he had an indication that it was Harry Potter attacking and not someone more predictable like Master Yoda was when the body of his last guard was used like a battering ram.

To smash through his private door.

Even as that happened he felt the door further back from that (that lead back out into the main building) close and lock with a powerful wave of the Force.

No Jedi, he thought, would be either that callous or that efficient.

"Ahh...the _former_ Silver Prince" spat Palpatine casually. "How are you? You don't look well".

If an objective observer was in the room they would be able to do nothing else than agree.

Harry's face was as pale as bone and his breathing was both quick and raggedly shallow. His skin was clammy and, even after such a short time, his bandage was soaked through with his own blood once again.

So much so that it almost appeared as if he had spilt a great deal of dark red wine on his robes.

"The same could be said of you...you one-eyed bastard. Then again...you look pretty good for the son of a Hutt and a Kath Hound…." Harry answered even as a flash of anger rippled across the Emperor's face.

Despite the best surgeons in the Empire giving it their all the long jagged scar on his face remained, a reminder of when his victory had been stolen from him, and his right eye had turned milky and unseeing.

Mace Windu and Harry Potter had effectively lanced clean through the orb with broken glass and both his monumental pride as well as deep anger stopped him getting an artificial one.

He had also refused a replacement because it fostered the idea of him being truly injured rather than a scarred war hero and the simple fact that his mastery of the Force managed to compensate easily enough.

"You do know that you cannot survive this?" Palpatine continued while palming and activating his lightsaber.

"Who said I wanted to?" Harry's short reply baffled the man even as Harry moved in to attack and Palpatine reflexively launched Force Lightning at his foe only to have it absorbed by one of those strange Magi Shields.

What followed was as beautiful as it was brutal.

Two undisputed masters of their respective orders fought, parried and weaved about the room. Both used all forms of lightsaber combat to counter the other but, both also fell back on their preferred forms more often than not.

Sidious preferred the raw destructive power of Juyo while Harry slipped often into the controlled strength of Djem So.

Palpatine was invigorated as he hadn't faced a challenge this intense in years as even Windu hadn't tested him this much. Harry, on the other hand, though grievously injured was resolutely single-minded in his desire to kill the newly crowned Emperor despite his failing body.

"I have done my research on you" taunted Palpatine and he received no response except an increase in the speed of the other man's attacks. "Tell me...exactly how did you live so long?"

Again there was no reply and so he continued with a question that was somewhere between a shot in the dark and an educated guess. "Did you enjoy being a blunt tool for the Sith all of those years ago?"

 _That_ did get a reaction and he capitalised on the minor shock that Harry felt (and the minor misstep it caused) to throw him, with the Force, up and out into the corridor towards his private entrance to the Senate room.

His prey (for that was, in his mind, what Harry was) landed badly and groaned on the ground even as the former Silver Prince's hands fluttered lightly over his wounded side.

Palpatine stalked towards him talking all the while.

"I wonder how many secrets you have gathered over such a long life. Even a fool such as you _must_ have found one or two interesting things over the years...other than your petty tricks with the Force".

"I didn't" gasped Harry as he summoned, from somewhere deep within him, the ability to stand. "I didn't enjoy it. I take full responsibility for my part in what happened but I was manipulated and _used_. At least the majority of people that I killed had weapons in their hands and _all_ would have killed me given half a chance...what is your excuse?"

"I need none" Palpatine replied scathingly as he lifted Harry by the throat "I am the Dark Side and the Dark Side is me. I am _Sith_ and it is the nature of the weak to fall under the weight of the strong".

Neither man noticed the small recording orb far above them that caught Palpatine's impromptu speech but, to be fair, they were far too busy with their encounter and it _was_ designed not to be noticed.

After the fight, the edited footage (carefully altered to protect certain Commonwealth secrets) would be released across the Holonet and forcing the Empire to admit that they were under the command of a Sith.

This would create a political tornado that could only benefit the Commonwealth during the new but ongoing war.

Without another word Palpatine, eager to both force his dominance on Harry and painfully extract all secrets that he could, entered the weakened man's mind.

Given Harry's fragile state Palpatine was startled by the sheer strength of the man's mental shields and he was further shocked by what the man did next.

With a laugh that was almost half a sob, Harry simply let his barriers (made of both the Force and magic) fall into nothingness.

What he found made Palpatine do something that he hadn't done since his own master died and he became the Dark Lord of the Sith...he shivered in fear.

Where most men's minds were either organised structures of information (albeit unique to each man's way of thinking) or a random jumble of disorganised but interconnected chaos. Harry Potter's was different.

There was.. almost nothing. Like a black hole deep in space, it's darkness was chilling in utter alienness.

It wasn't the dark that the Sith were used to seeing as there was no hunger for power or control there and there wasn't even a sliver of the kind of hope that you might feel in a Jedi's mind.

The despair and grief that it was made of was a heavy thing and acted almost like a great wet blanket on his mind making his mental probe (as well as his thoughts and reactions) sluggish and clumsy in response to it.

It took almost every scrap of the admittedly strong willpower that the Emperor had to push through it. He was desperate to find something else that he could use as leverage, anything else, as even the smallest buried secret might have allowed him to find purchase in this quagmire of a mind.

Eventually, he succeeded though it didn't do him any good as the only motivation that he could find in Potter's mind was simple enough.

To see him dead at any cost.

Too late he realised his mistake as, in going so deep, he had managed to surround himself by more of the despair than ever before. It was like trying to wade through a soul-crushing mud that clung to every part of his mind and caked it in its oppressive weight.

He could not push any further than he already had and it took almost all of his remaining skill and strength to extricate himself from Harry's mind...so great was the man's grief.

By then Harry had managed to both recover (as much as he was able given his physical condition) and react accordingly.

Palpatine's first sensation, once he had returned fully to the confines of his own flesh, was one of blinding pain as Harry landed a furious blow to the man's jaw.

He then found himself being lifted and thrown through the air, by the Force and by hand no less, into the Senate Chambers.

-LAFA-

Harry _almost_ regretted throwing Palpatine so hard as he felt something in his wound tear as he did.

He had to bite back a scream as he did so and, if he wasn't imagining things, he was already much more unsteady on his feet after the act. He braced himself on the wall and moved like a much older (chronologically at least) man as he half walked and half shuffled towards the person who had caused so much misery.

As soon as he got through to the Senate Chambers he had to Force Jump away from his goal and land in a random Senator's podium given the fact that Palpatine threw another one of the identical podiums straight at him.

He landed heavily because of his wound and he was also acutely aware that every movement, strenuous or otherwise, was beginning to cost him far too much (both in terms of him defeating Palpatine and in relation to his own longevity).

He figured that turnabout was fair play though and forced Palpatine to dodge podiums as well.

The two men made an interesting study in opposites.

One desired power above all else and his never-ending hunger for it drove everything that he did. The other simply desired to drag a power hungry fool down to oblivion and was happy to go along for the ride as long as it worked.

One was, despite his bodies advanced age, fluid in his movements. The other, despite his more youthful body, was slow, careful and almost stationary by comparison due to his injury.

Palpatine sculpted the Force to his will. Each movement was calm and deliberate (seemingly at odds with the rage that Harry could feel with his senses) with every gesture taking a few moments to turn any inanimate object that he wanted into a deadly weapon.

Harry, on the other hand, cared less and less for his health and he also didn't care about anything else _except_ killing Palpatine. It showed in every action that he took especially because he was doing something every Force User was taught _never_ to do.

He was opening himself up to the Force...without any safeguards.

Even as Harry felt the strength of that incalculable and eternal energy begin to burn through his broken frame (slowly killing him in the process) he found a sense of peace as he had never felt more connected to anything and everything in his entire existence.

Reality bent to his will like hot wax melting in the sun even as his right hand spewed forth the power of the Force and his left hand launched spell after spell, transfigured creature after transfigured creature.

All of which meant that Harry could stay relatively still in the building while Palpatine bounced around like a pinball trying to both avoid the many and varied attacks that came at him in a seemingly unending stream of violence and counter-attack at the same time.

Harry was oddly reminiscent of a conductor at that point. Twitches of his fingers directed conjured or transfigured animals, caused parts of the building to explode or change and launch everything that he could at the Galactic Emperor.

It was a testament to Palpatine's hard-earned skill that he managed to evade these things with only minor injuries.

There was a reason why Force Users didn't open themselves up in this way and, in his injured condition, that reason became a reality for Harry far quicker than it might have otherwise.

Lungs burning, arms shaking with exhaustion, his side feeling like it was on fire and with blood pouring from burst blood vessels in his ears, nose and mouth Harry couldn't help but half collapse against the podium he was in coughing wetly.

-LAFA-

Palpatine smirked as he used the Force to casually float down next to his enemy and he revelled in the hostile looks that Potter was sending him.

"Oh well done!" Palpatine said clearly amused and intrigued by the power that had been thrown at him. "I can't wait to find out what other tricks of yours I can observe and then eventually copy once you are properly… motivated".

"Well" replied Harry, as his legs seemed to buckle under the weight of his body, and he slid to the ground. "That's something to look forward to at least".

Palpatine laughed cruelly and almost found himself wishing that Harry Potter wasn't quite so dangerous or well connected as, under different circumstances, he would have made an _excellent_ apprentice.

The flip side of the coin, of course, was that without being that dangerous or powerful, Palpatine doubted that he would have ever noticed Potter in the first place and the irony of that was not lost on the darkly amused man.

"Well," Palpatine said secure in his victory "I am glad to be of service".

"Oh don't worry" Harry replied, his voice now noticeably stronger, and with a dark smile all of his own "you've done more than enough by getting within arms reach of me".

"So?" Palpatine remarked with pure scepticism lacing his voice. "You are exhausted and dying. You couldn't levitate a pebble at the moment...let alone use the Force to harm me".

"Sadly true. However, you _are_ labouring under three misconceptions. Admittedly they are misconceptions that I've helped, in a roundabout way, to reinforce but they are still in error nonetheless".

"I doubt that" dismissed Palpatine.

"First" Harry continued as if the man hadn't spoken "that you have survived in this fight, to this point, due to your own powers and not as part of a design of mine. Second, you are deeply wrong in thinking that all my talents and abilities are Force-based. In your arrogance and hubris, you seem to have forgotten that there are other powers in the universe that you cannot or do not access".

"And third?" Palpatine asked with his voice still full of disbelief but, intrigued in spite of that.

"Did you know that it's not just creating animals that fall within these other powers but that some of us who can do that can also turn into them as well?"

-LAFA-

Harry watched with a morbid and detached fascination as Palpatine began to spring away from him and back towards the man's former high perch even as he felt his change from man to animal begin.

His wounds did not heal from one form to another (but then they never did with the Animagus transformation) and he was still effectively drained of almost all Force ability at the moment.

Even his lightsaber had been absorbed, along with his clothing and other items, into his animal form so he did not have that as an option….not that he had the thumbs to use it.

What he did have was almost 240 kg of muscle and coal black fur ready to spring into action. Combine that with razor sharp claws and teeth, made only more deadly by the magic that imbued his entire form, and the argument could be made that he really didn't need another weapon.

Then he unfolded his wings. The bright white underside of which was stark against both his dark coat and the dark grey Senate Chambers.

The wings spread wide and allowed him to fly very quickly, the magic in them seeming to almost draw the air to them, and he was able to catch up to his quarry with relative ease.

The lion was the picture of snarling fury, with his claws outstretched and his maw opened wide, ready to rip and tear this fragile looking man into pieces.

The mass of muscle and flesh that was Harry slammed into Palpatine, who had half turned in an effort to avoid being hit, and both were spun about due to the jarring impact with Harry's wings flaring reflexively to try and maintain altitude as well as position.

Palpatine's Force presence flared as he sought to do the same.

Harry was grateful at that moment that his form was feline based. Unlike his Godfather's canine form cats had one large advantage when compared to dogs. Dogs led with their muzzles but cats...cats bit and _mauled_.

As his powerful jaw snapped at Palpatine's head (which the man barely avoided) his front claws, like daggers, bit into the man's shoulders as his paws clamped down. This allowed him the purchase to bring his back legs up and strike.

They raked into Palpatine's belly, again and again, turning the man's intestines to bloody ribbons.

Still, Palpatine managed to find the will to bring his lightsaber into the action even through his screams. The hot plasma of the blade bit deeply into Harry's already injured side and he howled in agony.

Then he blasted a distracted Harry away with a tremendous (and barely focused) blast of Force energy. Palpatine was almost blind with agony by this point from the wounds that he had taken in those few bloody seconds.

He took a moment...which was a mistake.

Harry had managed to partially control his spin and angle his wings so that he came back in a fast loop. His left paw managed to catch Palpatine's throat and, even the blood gushed from this new claw wound, both men (one still in the shape of an animal) fell to the floor far below with a resounding thud.

Harry couldn't hold his form any longer and changed back into the old man in a young broken body that he had been before his transformation (albeit with far more damage to his frame).

Harry knew, at that moment, that he was already dead and he was just stuck waiting for his body to get the message. He doubted that he had more than a few moments before that happened.

With great difficulty he managed to turn his head, the rest of his body shattered in more places than he could count, and watched the would-be Emperor gasp out his last breath.

Harry smiled a bitter smile and, his job done, died right there on the Senate Floor.

With his death, the simple (but highly effective) blood magic activated in the runes that he had placed. They blazed to incandescent life and exploded collapsing both Palpatine's private quarters and the entirety of the Senate in on themselves.

A fitting tomb for Harry Potter, the Silver Prince, if there ever was one.

-LAFA-

The news of the battle and it's outcome spread like wildfire thanks, in no small part, to the highly edited recordings and transmissions from the small droid that was present throughout the majority of the fight.

All combat had ended and in his Council Room David Potter, the Silver Prince, sighed.

The battles between the newly minted Empire and the vengeful Commonwealth had not ended with Palpatine's death though they had been both very bloody and very brief.

In the end, the largely leaderless Empire had fallen due to a combination of infighting for the vacant top spot and the strength of the Commonwealth's attack.

It had fallen almost as fast as it had formed and almost all the former Imperial Territories that remained, tired of blood and war, had joined the Commonwealth with only fifty worlds seeking to form the 'Republic' once again.

Now, he thought, the real work will begin. It will take decades, perhaps centuries, to fully mesh that many worlds into the Commonwealth though the work is already underway. Dad would have hated the paperwork and mum would have been in every field hospital that she could.

He was interrupted in his musings by the arrival of two Silver Knights and his sister. He looked up from his seat and the table that he had been looking at, but not seeing, and at the face of his last remaining family.

"Sister dear?" David asked. "Do we have an appointment?"

"No," she said as the two Knights moved to guard the room against any and all comers. Her tone turned frosty at her next words "Two Jedi are here to see you".

The arrogance of them, he thought, to turn up now...after everything has finished.

"Send them in" he replied while his voice sounded like steel.

Soon enough Jedi Master Yoda along with, David was disappointed to see, a healthy looking Master Windu behind him.

"Greeting Sire," said Windu. Yoda said nothing even as his old eyes scanned the room and quickly dismissed the two Silver Knights as unimportant.

"Why are you here Windu?" David asked coldly ignoring, for the moment, Yoda's presence.

"To oversee the return of our Knights, Padawans and Masters of course" replied Windu.

"Important, their education, is" stated Yoda firmly.

"Why" David queried morbidly curious. "It's not like we are holding them captive after all".

"We need to train the newer generations properly. We do have a Republic to protect after all" stated Windu firmly.

"Not according to the reformed Republic you don't" interjected Lady Sarah.

"Only a small misunderstanding, that is..." stated Yoda.

"Not according to them" rebutted David "and not according to the new treaty signed between the Commonwealth and the Reformed Republic. They do not want you….I believe they said something on the lines of failing in your duties, especially your former Grandmaster here, and allowing the Sith to grow right under your nose as it were".

"They even asked us to deal with any and all of your….transgressions" added Sarah once again.

Both Yoda and Windu scowled at _that_ idea.

"Going to kill us, are you?" Yoda half asked and half accused to which Sarah snorted and David outright asked.

"Kill the Jedi?" David's voice was both incredulous and more than faintly mocking. "Certainly not. Despite what many of your Order have tried to say about us" here David looked pointedly at Yoda "we are not anything approaching the Sith".

"What then?" demanded Windu arrogantly.

"We will take the twelve Masters, the triple score of Knights and Padawans that you have left and do exactly what your Order has historically done to 'certain' misguided Force Orders in the past. We have built several orbital space stations around Dagobah and you will, at the order of the Senate of the Republic and by the recommendation of the Silver Commonwealth, be exiled and monitored there for the good of all".

"For how long?" Mace demanded. "You have also miscounted...as, apart from the Jedi that we are here for, there are thirteen Jedi Masters, not twelve".

"You will be there until, like the errant and arrogant children you are, you have learned your lesson" David answered quietly.

"And if we will not go?" Windu asked even as both Jedi slowly moved their hands towards their lightsabers.

"Then we will not force the Jedi" David answered easily and both Jedi showed their surprise at that and fractionally relaxed until his next words. "You _would_ , of course, be fugitives in both the Commonwealth and the Republic as members of a restricted organisation disobeying the law. You could always try to seek your fortunes in the Unknown Regions but...I wouldn't try Hutt Space...they would _love_ to collect Jedi I'm sure...but you wouldn't enjoy it".

Both Jedi shuddered almost imperceptibly.

With no money, no support or supplies their choices were few.

Even with the Force to help provide for them the chances of them succeeding at finding a place to start over or thrive were slim. Added to that they understood the unspoken idea that it would be a permanent exile and they would literally _never_ be able to come home again.

Both Jedi also knew that fighting here would be the height of stupidity as, at a simple call, they could easily both be dead on the floor even if they managed to kill all those in this room.

"To exile, we will go" stated Yoda as if they had any other choice and, after a long look at Windu, added "our remaining members?"

"Ahh yes" Lady Sarah replied, "I thought we'd hit that little snag".

At that moment over twenty Knights of the Silver, many former Jedi among them entered the room. To a man, they had hard and unforgiving faces as well as lit lightsabers. They formed a loose circle around Grandmaster Yoda even as Sarah stepped forward and began to speak in a slow and formal tone.

"Former Grandmaster, now fugitive, Yoda the Commonwealth charges you with the aiding and abetting of a known murderer by the name of Count Dooku. It also charges you with failing to stop the infection of the Republic by, and the rise of, the Sith as was your duty. That failure is, perhaps, the most dangerous and damning as it led to the Republic almost being destroyed".

Mace Windu, at that point, made a noise as if to object but was silenced by the harsh glares of both Lady Sarah and the Silver Prince.

"The last charge is further compounded as another Sith and former Jedi, one Kara Durvan, was under your personal tutelage and endorsement _while being both unstable and falling to the Darkside_. You even" here Sarah sneered openly "allowed her to rejoin the war effort and effectively removed all supervision, minimal though it might have been, from her".

"How do you plead?" asked the Silver Prince with a face more reminiscent of stone than flesh.

"Your right to judge me, I do not accept" was Yoda's stern reply and David only sighed sadly but without surprise as he had more than half expected this.

"Take him" commanded David and, seeing as the ancient Jedi was about to pull his lightsaber irrespective of the odds, the two Knights of the Silver that had come in with Sarah sprang into action.

The woman ripped the lightsaber from Yoda's claw-like hand even as the man, with an absent-minded gesture, broke through the former Grandmaster's significant protections and ruthlessly held him frozen in place with the Force.

The other Knights moved as a cohesive unit, bound Yoda, and took him away even as Windu stood there impotent and furious. After a long moment, Windu spoke while keeping his hands well away from his weapon.

"What happens now? What about any students that might wish to come with us or ones we might find?"

"You are effectively the new Grandmaster and you will lead your people into exile. As for those you came for...when they first arrived they were given time to make their choice with no pressure from us. After seeing how...well...your Order has performed in the recent past they have decided to become Knights of the Silver and are therefore not your concern".

Mace was, soon afterwards, ushered out a defeated and broken man even as the two siblings shook their heads one last time and Jedi arrogance and hubris.

When there was only the two original Knights, Lady Sarah and himself David thought that the surprises were over for the day...but he was wrong.

He caught the knowing looks between the two unknown Knights and his sister and that caused him to both study their current body language and how they had fought.

There was a certain elegance to their simple manoeuvres that simply was not found in most Knights and spoke of years of practice. Their body language was not that of new Knights that had only just found their balance nor were any of their mannerisms the same as the longest teachers.

That should not be possible. Though he didn't know every single Knight he did meet with the main teachers at least once each every year and his own training had taught him to catalogue how they walked, talked and moved.

It was a fact of life that students, like children, learned more than tactics and philosophy from their instructors. They unconsciously picked up mannerisms and habits as well and both of these Knights had none of those that were present in the main instructors.

They are, he thought with a dawning realisation, present in both me and my sister.

"Mum? Dad?" He asked in a whisper and barely daring to hope.

"Hello, son" Harry's rich voice soothed him even as the man's unfamiliar features melted away and revealed the familiar features and his mothers did the same.

"How? Why?" David asked both confused and, frankly, hurt by the revelation of their not quite so permanent deaths.

"That" answered Luna "is both a very long story and the deception is completely my fault".

-LAFA-

Flashback

Unknown Location

Harry opened his eyes, surprised that he even had eyes at all, and stepped out of a state of the art cloning chamber.

"Hello, my love" said a voice that he never thought he would hear again. The sound of it soothed his soul and brought tears to his eyes.

Before he could respond it was joined by the soaring and beautiful song that could belong to no other animal than a phoenix…. _his_ phoenix.

Then Harry's brain felt like a wave of fire was moving slowly through it changing things as it went. It was a welcome pain however as not only did it mean that he was not dreaming but, it also released previously hidden information in its wake.

He remembered The Plan.

Luna had known, from the moment that the possible futures she could discern had solidified into one where Harry and Palpatine would meet head-on, that the most important part of the fight would be a mental battle between the two.

More than that, she had confided in him that in every future she had seen he was injured. Sometimes it was one wound, sometimes it was many but he was always hurt.

In one future he had a broken leg that limited his mobility and caused a great deal of pain. In another, he had lost both of his eyes and used only the Force to see. In another and particularly chilling future he was almost completely cybernetic by the time of the battle with his brain encased in a rune encrusted hardened automaton.

In all of these futures, Luna was alive….fighting, always fighting, far away from him.

In all of them, Harry failed and Luna fell in her grief at the loss of him only to die in a multitude of ways later on.

In a good eighty per cent of the futures, Palpatine managed to rally the Empire with the information and skills that he managed to rip from Harry's mind before he killed him.

Sometimes the reversal of fortune was immediate and sometimes it was after years of warfare. Two things were certain however and the first was that the Empire, bolstered by its new innovations and the ruthlessness of Palpatine, always won.

Second Harry was left, at absolute best, a destroyed husk of what he was and a mental vegetable.

Given this knowledge, Luna was understandably distraught and she had taken steps to correct this dreary outcome.

Hence The Plan.

Harry remembered that they had tried for months to improve his mental defences. Three to eight times a day (with the help of select Magi and Knights under vows of secrecy) they practised.

They had soon figured out that a strong emotional component was the key.

That was all they were able to do however as, no matter what they tried and no matter how much they trained, Luna's visions of the outcome did not change. With every new memory that he dredged up, with ever new feeling summoned, she would simply sadly shake her head.

Nothing was working.

To put the problem simply Harry had more skill in general than Palpatine and they were both in the same region of power but, when it came to a mental battle, Palpatine had an edge over Harry on two fronts.

The first was that Palpatine had spent far more time (comparatively speaking) on mental attacks than Harry. He was, in that field, an artist at using the slightest mental weakness, distracting thought or desire to his own advantage. To make matters worse his skill was hard-earned whereas Harry's wasn't learned but rather a 'gift' from the destruction of Voldemort's Horcrux and therefore more of instinct than art.

The second (and perhaps most important point) was the difference in the two men's mindsets. Harry, possibly apart from his time as a tool of the Sith, was not vicious and did not take pleasure in the death of others.

He was unyielding in his goals and would do exactly what was necessary to further them and protect his people he could be cold and ruthless but he was never cruel for the sake of being cruel and he had never developed a taste for causing pain in others.

Palpatine, on the other hand, was a true sadist and those ways of thinking, although sometimes only a fractional distinction in practice, were all too important.

The invasion of someone's mind, either by magic or the Force, was at its core an attack on someones most intimate self. It was a form of violation that defied description as much depended on how much damage the attacker wanted to do and what they were searching for.

In the hands of Palpatine, that skill would be the worst form of rape and he would enjoy such an invasion and take strength as well as pleasure from it.

It had been Harry that had realised a simple truth. If the rules of the game did not agree with one….then one must change the rules.

All of that knowledge meant nothing to Harry at this moment as, as soon as he could be sure of his own legs, dived forward and swept his wife off her feet and inhaled the scent of her hair.

"I missed you" he said brokenly.

"So did I love...so did I" was Luna's heartfelt reply.

"It was so horrible" he whispered while softly weeping into her hair.

"I know my love" she soothed "I know. Your utter despair managed to work where everything else failed though...it kept you alive and brought you here to me. Better you were in pain for a while and alive than loved for a short time and dead".

-LAFA-

"So it was all contrived?" David asked his parents much later.

"Of course it was and as soon it was possible mum contacted me" interrupted his sister. "To save us, all of us, from Palpatine and _his_ Empire they did what they had to do".

"And" added David even as he proved he was his mother's son "it gives you both a chance at a peaceful life. The Galaxy thinks you are dead and it should stay that way. If they knew otherwise they would never leave you alone...especially now".

"You're right about that" said Harry in a serious tone. "It's also your time for the crown...too much paperwork". Although his father's hatred for any and all paperwork was legendary David doubted that was really the reason.

"So it was Mum that destroyed all of her clones?" David questioned his parents.

"Of course" she answered. "The only future I ever saw where your father stood a chance….only a chance mind you… I was dead. We tried other options, tried to find other ways, but…"

"Fate is a bitch" her daughter finished on her mother's behalf.

"So they 'recovered from 'death' and found you?" David asked his sister.

"Of course. Who better to understand what they had been through than someone who was both another 'Immortal' and family. The Galaxy isn't really suited for us on the centre stage or rulers...not really… remember our lessons about power, prices and the Balance".

"The greater the power, the higher the price and, thanks to the Balance you are never done paying for as long as you use it and often after you put it down...if you can" David said softly.

"All of us who live this way " added Luna "will have to fade into obscurity eventually. Besides everyone pays unforeseen prices". She shrugged "That's the price of a linear existence… actions with consequences that we can never foresee or truly grasp the effect of….not totally".

"So you are leaving then?" David asked his parents and after they both nodded he added to his sister "and you are going with them?"

"No brother dear" she answered. "It's not my time, not yet and not for a long time I hope, but it will come one day. Besides, do you really think that I would leave to your own devices? I also think that our parents deserve some alone time and I _might_ just cramp their style".

"Watching his parents turn as if to leave caused a pang of great sadness to wash over him and they, sensing that, turned back for a moment.

"Just because we are leaving now it doesn't mean that we won't be back. We'll be back from time to time as and when we are able. We will always be there if you need us" Harry said firmly.

"It might be with different names and faces" added Luna " but you _will_ always know who we are...just as you should always know we are proud of you both….always".

"What about Chime?" David couldn't help but ask even as they began to walk away.

"Who do you think guarded your father's new body while it waited for him" Luna called back over her shoulder.

Both Harry and Luna had finally begun to take their first steps unchained by Force visions or prophecy and without the overwhelming shadow of a threat on the horizon...for now at least.

-LAFA-

Afterword

There this secret family history ends, passed down from generation to generation so that we can not only understand the family secret but, more importantly, where we came from.

This has been compiled from the personal journals of the first two Silver Princes, Luna Potter and Sarah Potter. The grandchild of David also added to this book by Flow-walking their lives as and when he could.

I decided to add an afterword to this journal that was passed to me and make it available to every family member on their twentieth birthday.

This I have done so that each member can make as informed a choice as is possible. A free choice it must be, after all, between Immortality and eventually fading away or the transient beauty of mortal life.

Remember, all who will read this, that each choice carries a price. If you learn nothing else know that whatever your choice is you will _never_ stop paying for it.

Such is life.

For the record I have chosen a 'normal' life while my two brothers have chosen Immortality and, as such, I have been the new Silver Prince for just over a week.

The cycle of life and death never ends and the Balance _always_ wins in the end.

Life does not allow for happily ever after and even for us much has been lost to time. We do know more than a few things, however.

Most importantly, if you have read this book, the Commonwealth still exists. It thrives now (at the time I write) and the enchantments on this book are tied to its survival...if it fades so does this book.

For the historians among you (or simply the curious) Qui-gon retired from his post soon after the war with the Empire ended. History records that he became an instructor, philosopher and gardener in the Chapterhouse that was near Anakin's mother's restaurant.

The nature of their relationship is not recorded.

Lady Sarah, long after her brother had passed away, eventually stocked a ship and headed into the unknown.

It has become something of a tradition for those that choose the longer path to do so as has the fact that with that you also renounce any claim to the leadership of the Commonwealth.

It took Prince David the rest of his life but he truly earned the epitaph of the Builder. He fully amalgamated the Commonwealth with the Sectors of the former Republic. He also expanded our borders far into the unknown even as we do so today.

Like during the time of the war with the Empire peace remains the goal, not the current state. The Hutt Wars are in full swing even as we discover new territory and they are further and further isolated.

We are winning the war as it enters its third year.

The Republic is now nothing more than a memory. Its long and glorious history now merely consigned to the past as the remaining worlds are valued members of the Commonwealth.

As for Anakin? He fulfilled the Jedi's prophecy, at least in a sense, and brought balance to the Force by becoming Qui-gon's successor.

He instructed more Knights than anyone on record (of those that didn't take the long path at least) and even managed to find various groups that had previously hidden themselves from the judgemental Jedi and add their teachings to our own.

He had four children with his wife and his family now serve, if not on the Council itself then the Parliament under it, loyally. They are also friends of the Royal House and those that share Anakin's gift are often faithful bodyguards and advisors.

The blood of House Potter is still blessed with the twin gifts of Force and magic.

The story of the Jedi Order is, quite sadly, much less fruitful.

Some still live as they ended, by necessity, their prohibition on procreation. They sadly show no signs of learning anything greater than their own views and have instead rewritten history in their exile.

They now view, from what we can tell, Grandmaster Yoda as some sort of saint and more of a martyr to their cause with every passing generation. The only upside to this is, thanks to repeated inbreeding, their powers also weaken every year.

We are devils to them...ones that have unjustly imprisoned them and caused all of their problems. They cling to the idea of a Golden Age that history records never actually existed...especially as we have recovered evidence of the Sith since Darth Bane.

The Force save me from revisionist history and the wisdom of fools. The best of luck to you my beloved unknown kinsman.

Yours,

Robert III the fifteenth Prince of the Silver Commonwealth.

-THE END-


End file.
